


Itsy Bitsy Spider

by Primarina (PastelBrachypelma)



Series: Nursery Rhymes to Sing in the Dark [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Agent!Aziraphale, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Horror, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Multi, Pennywise (IT) Being an Asshole, glamour!Crowley, tags to be added idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 23,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBrachypelma/pseuds/Primarina
Summary: The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and dried up all the rain, so the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Audra Phillips, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Georgie Denbrough/Original Female Character(s), Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris, Warlock Dowling & The Them (Good Omens)
Series: Nursery Rhymes to Sing in the Dark [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1489181
Comments: 70
Kudos: 29





	1. Prelude

Time passes, as it is wont to do. Children grow and times change. It is time for some to spread their wings.

Bill went to college in California and stayed on there, eventually working his way up to director for several minor horror films. He has a crush on actress Audra Philips, who has starred in several of his productions.

Bev and Ben got married and moved to Chicago, where Bev modeled for some time and then switched to being a social media influencer when she ran into a horrible man named Tom Rogan, who reminded her of her father, on a modeling shoot one day. Ben studied landscape architecture and has a successful freelance business. After trying, and failing, to have children no matter what they tried, Ben and Bev decided to adopt. They name their son Adam.

Eddie and Richie lived together in New York until gay marriage was legalized, and then, of course, they were officially married. Eddie owns a car rental service where he personally oversees the repairs made to each car. It isn’t quite soapbox racing, but it’s pretty close. Richie works in radio and does stand up comedy on the side. They live modestly, but it is a good living. Miraculously, when they decide to adopt, a child is found for them. Wilfred Arthur will later insist on being called “Warlock,” which his fathers agree to, though they are both very confused.

Stanley went on to become a very successful businessman, who married his collegiate sweetheart, Patricia, a preschool teacher. They live happily in the wilds of upstate New York where Stan works from home and runs a birdwatching blog. His wife teaches in a nearby school. Both are distraught when, after several miscarriages and a tumor, they can no longer try to expand their family. Patricia is unable to go to work for some time, and Stan takes vacation off work to comfort her.

Jack took his chances with the wilds of Vermont, eventually opening a ski lodge that operates for half the year. In the summer, he hitch hikes his way across the States, admiring the beauty of the Land of the Free.

Wren, a skilled veterinarian, works in nearby Ludlow, attending to some strange circumstances of her own. One might venture to call her an “aromantic asexual,” but she feels she is too old to classify herself. Either way, she is happy with her home, especially with her cat, London.

All of those who leave a Glamour’s territory are destined to forget what is behind them. Their memories of the time they spent within those territories are vague at best, covered with a thick blanket of foggy nostalgia for small town life. However, there are those that remember, due to being left behind, or choosing to stay in one place.

Mike Hanlon studied history at a local college, commuting to school to save money. He sold his grandfather’s farm and used those funds to repair the Derry library, bringing it into the 21st Century. He, too, lives simply, but his memories of that fateful summer remain. And as he gets older and time ticks steadily forward, he becomes more and more anxious about IT’s return.

A happier tale is last but not least. Georgie and Katie married young and settled in London, just on the outskirts of town, closest to the abandoned campsite where they played as children. Katie became an expert embroiderer, with a specialty in lacework, which made her popular with the wedding crowd. Her Etsy store supports herself and her husband, who owns the local hardware store. They are excitedly awaiting the birth of their daughter; only a month and a half left to go!

It is summer again, but a summer unlike other summers that have passed over the years. For this summer, it has been twenty-seven years exactly since a group of misfit children defeated an ancient evil, with only a little help from two occult beings.

Deep in the forest, under the cover of shadows, a giant snake stretches. The serpent Glamour can feel hunger stirring in his gut, but he chooses to lie back down and ignore it. After all, he, too, has forgotten the exact nature of the creature who resides in the dark depths of the neighboring town of Derry.

For that Glamour has never been kind, except to serve itself.

For that Glamour’s appetite will never be quenched until it has gorged itself on the fear of the innocents.

For that Glamour is known as Pennywise, the Dancing Clown.


	2. Constants

As with many things in life, there are constants opposite those events that might upset the natural balance of things. 

Life went on as usual in London. The humans and its occult creatures lived peacefully side by side, as they had for centuries and would for many years to come, and a new group of children had made the old campsite their playground.

“I’m telling you,” Wensleydale insisted, adjusting his glasses and tugging his backpack’s straps downwards so his bag climbed his back, “my dad says there’s something special about this year.”

Pepper scoffed. “What could he possibly know that we don’t? Besides, he doesn’t believe in aliens OR witches, and anyone who doesn’t believe in aliens or witches isn’t the type of person we ought to listen to.” 

“Dad says the stocks are goin up, though,” Wensleydale insisted. He had a good head for numbers, and would likely make a good accountant for someone someday. He was likely to lead a boring life otherwise, however. 

“What’s that evening mean?” Brian, who was perpetually dirty no matter what means were employed to keep him clean, and would probably be a very greasy, very smelly teen, fired back, skipping a few steps ahead to frown at Wensleydale. “Izzat some new kinda cryptid?”

“Nah,” Pepper said, shaking her head vigorously. “We already established Wensley’s dad is a nutjob.”

“Stocks are very good for us all, actually,” Wensleydale went on, unperturbed, “means economy’s good and we get more of what we want.” 

“Like chocolate ice cream?” Brian asked hopefully. “I could go for some chocolate ice cream.” 

“On a small scale, yes,” Wensleydale replied, beaming. 

“Ah,” Pepper dismissed, wanting to get the conversation back under her control again, “what’s your dad know, anyway? He spent most of his life in Britain, and then married a perfectly boring girl and moved here,” she waved her arms around, “to perfectly boring Nowheresville, Maine!”

Brian’s jaw dropped. “Pepper, you can’t just call London boring! ‘Specially not with your dad.” 

“Eh,” Pepper shrugged. “You get used to weird after a while, I guess.” 

“And what makes you think you know American politics, anyways?” Wensleydale cut in, “betchya don’t even know what the symbol of the Democratic Party is!” 

“Course I do,” Pepper rolled her eyes. “‘S the elephant. Duh.” 

“Nuh uh! Republican’s the elephant!” 

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not infinity!” Pepper shouted as they emerged from the dense underbrush into the large clearing, now occupied with a beautiful log cabin, an outdoor picnic area, tents, and a hammock. “Ha! I win!” 

“That doesn’t mean—” Wensleydale began, but was interrupted by a pulse of energy, kind of like a whisper, running through the grass. It fell over each of them like a warm breeze, tasting them, almost. 

“Dad!” Pepper called. “I’m home!”

There was a whispering sound, almost like sandpaper scratching together, and then the head of a giant snake appeared from over the edge of the cottage, resting on the lip of the roof. It looked to be in the later stages of shed, its eyes still in blue. 

Perhaps the most unusual thing about this scene is that the children stood unafraid, as if this was a perfectly normal occurrence. To be fair, it kind of was. 

“Dad?” Pepper asked. She was Crowley’s latest child, born of unlucky circumstances. Father out of the picture, mother dead in childbirth. She had nowhere to go, and Crowley, protector of all of London’s children, took her in as his own. Pepper had long ago learned what Crowley was, and her little friends, who lived in London with perfectly normal families. Had learned by proxy. “You okay?” 

“Hey, Mister Crowley,” Wensleydale greeted. Brian waved. 

The snake addressed the question by rubbing its cheek against the roofing tiles. “Oh, come back down here!” A female voice tutted in agitation. 

Pepper grinned, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Hi Auntie Kate!”

“Hello!” Katie called back as the serpent disappeared. “C’mon back here. I’m almost done. Your father wanted a change of skin. I thought he was due one, don’t you?” 

“Yeah!” Pepper called, beckoning to her friends. The children ran around to the back of the cabin. 

A ghostly snakeskin was blowing in the breeze where a giant red and black serpent whose scales flowed copper and whose underbelly sparkled like garnets where the light hit lay in a coil around Katie Denbrough, the giant head resting still on her lap while her strong and sure fingers tore away at the shed covering the snake’s eyes. 

“Cool,” Brian stared in awe. He’d never seen a snake shed before, never mind one so big. 

“What’re ya gonna do with the excess snakeskin, Mrs. Denbrough?” Wensleydale asked. 

“Sew it into something, I expect,” Katie replied, grinning at the kids. “Though, do you think it’s powerful, dad?”

The snake made a great snuffling noise, huffing warm air at all present, making them giggle. One golden eye, nearly freed, focused on Pepper. 

“Dad, I’m gonna do my homework,” Pepper groaned. “Promise! But I wanna go play with Brian and Wensley first!”

“Mind you’re back before dark,” Katie translated, her sharp fingernails taking off a slough of snakeskin. 

Crowley stuck his tongue out, and Pepper grinned, sticking her tongue out as well and wriggling it about as best she could. 

“Bye, dad! We’ll be careful!” Pepper called, running off into the woods. 

“Hey! No fair!” Brian whined. “You got a head start!”

“We aren’t racing, dummy!”

“Yes we are! You always say that, then turn it into a race once you’ve won!”

“Fine! Race you!” 

“Pepper!”

Wensleydale waved awkwardly. “Bye Mr. Crowley. Bye Mrs. Denbrough. Hey, wait for me!” 

Katie chuckled, looking after the children. “Did we have so much energy when we were young, dad?”

The serpent tilted his head into her fingers. “Mm, yes. You and Georgie were well behaved, but Bev and Richie had influence over your siblings.” 

Katie sighed fondly. “I do miss them all terribly sometimes, dad. I wish we could’ve all stayed in London.” 

Crowley shrugged, at least as much as a snake could, and gently tightened his hold around her. “I miss them, too. But it’s part of nature to want to move on from where you grew up.” 

“Not me,” Katie looked down at her belly, running a hand along the surface. “I want my daughter to appreciate where I grew up, and who I grew up with.” 

“I’m honored you want me in her life,” Crowley chuckled as he felt the baby kick against his cheek. “Have you two thought of a name yet?” 

“No, not yet,” Katie said wistfully. “I think I’ll know when I see her, y’know? Seems weird to name someone before you even look at them.” 

Crowley nodded. “Think you’re almost done? I can feel this eye cap getting loose.” 

“Yup, almost done!” Katie promised. “I can’t wait to see your new look, dad. It’ll be awesome.” 

Crowley huffed. “I hardly think that it needs to qualify as “awesome,” but thank you.” 

Finally, he can see clearly again, and he smiles (as much as a snake can smile) and loops his coils around Katie, who laughs in delight. He’s never had to watch his children grow old before. They were always gone by that point. He has to admit, it’s not something he would mind repeating. 

The sun beats down warm on his scales. Summer is coming. Humans don’t notice time the way immortals do. He feels uneasy, hungry, and he’s not really sure why. 

There is something he’s forgetting. 

~

Deep below the city of Derry, under the bustling streets and busy thoroughfare, there sits a cold heart in the center of the sewer system that has never made sense, not even to those who designed and built it. The cold heart has lay dormant for twenty-seven years, sleeping, waiting, festering. 

The giant spider awakes and stretches her limbs. Soon, she will take on the form she knows best, the form she favors, and eat her fill without remorse. This time, no one will stop her, and anyone who tries will end up in her gullet. 

She looks around her in satisfaction at the egg sacks she is protecting. Her lair has become webbed up in the time she was asleep and laying her eggs. Soon, her children will hatch. And they will be ravenous. 

The Glamour chuckles to herself, raising her terrible head to the sky. She has forgotten that another stood up against her, one of her own kind, and that the other Glamour may pose a problem. 

But she doesn’t care. She is hungry and ready to feast. And she will soon get her opportunity. 

She’s patient. She can wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will Crowley's new style look like? 
> 
> Also, I'm aware that encountering Pennywise (and Glamours in general) makes you infertile...so yes, there is a reason why Katie is the exception to the rule ;)


	3. New Looks, Old Problems

“Whoa!” Pepper stopped short as he entered the clearing, making Wensleydale bump into her back and Brian trip and fall onto the grass. 

Crowley had finished his transformation and was busy sunbathing in the warmth of the last dregs of the evening sun. The Glamour had gone for a more androgynous look, long red curls cascading down his back, a sleek silk shirt that cling to his lean frame, and velvet skin-tight pants. He’d changed his glasses from a John Lennon style to something more modern, round frames with silver pinholes along the top. 

“You look so cool, Mr. Crowley!” Brian piped up. 

Pepper elbowed him. “We gotta ask first what to call ‘im,” she hissed, turning back to Crowley. “Uhh...what am I calling you? Dad? Mom?”

Pepper had been an infant when he rescued her, so she had seen Crowley change genders and outward appearances more often than his recent brood. After all, because of human sexism, it is far easier to make off with a baby if you can be seen as female. 

Crowley chuckled. “Whatever you like is fine. Thanks for asking. Brian, you can call me “mister” if that suits you.” 

“I’m gonna stock with dad,” Pepper decided. “I like that one best.” 

Crowley stretched with a grunt and got up delicately off the lawn chair. “Will you be staying for dinner, you two?” 

“Ah, no,” Brian ruffled up his hair. “No offense of anythin, but my mom’s made lasagna, and I never wanna miss that! It’s my favorite!”

Crowley smiled. “Fair enough. Wensleydale?” 

“No, thank you, Mr. Crowley,” Wensleydale, who had been fairly quiet in the face of Crowley’s change of appearance, tugged on the bottom of his vest. “My mom has a nutritious supper waiting for me at home.” 

“Eyuck,” Pepper complained. “She couldn’t make it sound more appetizing?!”

“It is! It’s a balanced supper!”

“C’mon, Wensley!” Brian called. “Let’s walk back together! It’s gettin’ dark!” 

“Coming!” Wensleydale turned and followed Brian through the trees. “Bye, Pepper! Bye Mr. Crowley!”

“Bye!” Pepper called, cupping her hands around her lips. “See ya for school tomorrow!”

“School?” Crowley materialized a jeans jacket lined with fleece to guard against the chill of the night. “Aren’t you done yet?”

“Tomorrow’s the last day,” Pepper explained. “I like that coat. Can you make me one with pink fleece?” 

“Only if you eat your vegetables.” 

“Aww.” 

“C’mon,” Crowley herded her into the cabin. “It’s sitting out all nice and warm for ya. I’m going to walk Katie home.” 

“Goodnight, Pepper,” Katie waved. 

“Oh, g’night! What were you makin?” Pepper rocked back and forth on her heels at the door. 

“Oh, this?” Katie held out the dress she was embroidering. “It’s a traditional gown for my baby girl.” 

“Why’re ya makin it now?” Pepper asked. “How d’ya know what size to make it?” 

“Well,” Katie said, letting Crowley help her into a white cardigan that hadn’t existed a few seconds ago. “Many years ago, my auntie Wren told me that when it comes to babies, everything should always be a little bit bigger, because you never know how big the baby will be. So I’m just following a pattern.” 

“Ohh,” Pepper said in a tone that indicated she’d already lost interest. 

“Go on,” Crowley shooed her. “Get started on your supper! I’ll be back in about ten minutes.” 

Pepper rolled her eyes, but went inside the cabin, letting the door fall shut with a sense of finality. 

Katie smiled, taking her dad’s arm and letting him walk her down the firefly-lit path. “She seems like a handful.” 

“Mmm, but I can manage. I never had to reign in Richie, but she gives him a run for his money.” Crowley chuckled, running his hand along some low-hanging branches, watching as little blooms sprouted and dead leaves became healthy once more. “I’ll miss summer once it goes. Love me some vitamin D.”

Katie nodded sagely, stepping carefully over a fallen log. “I like it, too. Especially nights like this.” She looked around at all the fireflies and moths fluttering in the gathering gloom, fingers reaching out to brush against them as they passed. “It reminds me of being little, spending nights lying out with Wren and Jack staring up at the stars.” She sighed blissfully. “Remember when we did a wedding for Eddie and Richie?”

Crowley nodded, nostalgia bringing the warm feeling back. “I do. The air smelled like chamomile and champagne. It was after we’d already done a Maypole for Bev and Ben. Richie wanted so badly to impress Eddie that he nearly tripped over his own feet during their first dance.” 

“Wasn’t it to “Africa,” dad?”

“I think it was “Somebody to Love”.” 

“Oh, yeah, I remember!” Katie giggled. “Georgie and I tried to dance too, but Georgie kept stepping on my feet.” She sighed. “Those were the days.” 

“Indeed,” Crowley had to agree that the years he’d spent with the Losers had been some of the best in his exceedingly long life. He missed them sometimes, in the way that he missed all of his children. He looked over to Katie and felt a rush of pride as he saw the compassionate, caring, and empathetic woman she had become. 

She could still catch him off guard, though. “You’re getting hungry again, aren’t you, dad?” Katie’s dark eyes shine in the dark, watching him intently. 

Crowley sighed deeply, feeling the familiar ache sliding around his bones and weaving through his muscles. “A little,” he allowed. “It isn’t as bad as it was that summer. I’ll be okay as long as I don’t think about it too much.” 

Katie sighed in exasperation. “All right. But please don’t let yourself get that bad again.” She squeezed his hand tightly in hers. “Okay? Promise me.” 

Crowley saluted. “Scout’s honor. I’ve been on the lookout, don’t worry.” He hadn’t, but it was useless to do so since his town was peaceful. Food wasn’t his top priority, anyway. But a little white lie couldn’t hurt. 

The new Denbrough house on the edge of London was cramped, but welcoming. It was a cheery shamrock green and the front door was pristine white. A light was on in the living room, illuminating the figure of Georgie Denbrough, watching TV in his favorite chair. As he heard them approaching, however, he jumped up and went to the door. 

“Katie,” he kissed her cheek. “And Crowley, too. It’s good to see you again.” 

“Thanks, Georgie. It’s good to see you, too.” 

“Love the hair, by the way. Can I still use…?”

“Any pronouns will do,” Crowley smiled kindly. “Between you and me, it’s the most inane human invention.” 

“Probably right about that,” Georgie chuckled. He’d become much more comfortable and confident over the years, but there was still part of the little boy he’d been in him, which Crowley (and likely his wife) found charming. He took Katie’s hand. “I cooked your favorite breaded Mac and cheese, and there’s ice cream in the fridge.” 

“My hero.” Katie kissed Georgie’s cheek, then turned and wrapped her arms tightly around Crowley. “Night, dad. I love you.”

Crowley embraced her in return. “I love you, too. Be safe.” 

“Always.” Katie beamed. 

With that, Crowley descended the stairs of the Denbrough residents, turning when he heard them go inside. He smiled, watching Georgie guide Katie to the couch and serve her a meal. It smelled good, as far as human food went. Reminded him of cooking for her, all those years ago. 

Crowley pocketed his hands, figuring it was probably best he get on home to see how Pepper was getting on. There was no safer place for children than the campsite, but Pepper didn’t like the dark, no matter how much she might pretend otherwise. 

The Glamour pressed his knuckles against his belly, weakened by the hollow growls. It wasn’t a problem, he knew. He could handle it just fine. Easing up on the magic would probably help a bit, and he could afford to sleep most of it off. 

But the best laid plans of mice and men will oft go awry. And unlike London, Derry was not quiet tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...I'm putting off writing Pennywise...can ya tell? -_-'
> 
> Poor Crowley is hungry, though not as bad as the last fic, so for those of you who hated the fact that I harped a LOT on Crowley being weak won't get so much of it in this fic. Good news? Yes? No?
> 
> I haven't decided what to do about Pennywise's killings this cycle. Also, there was a child added in with the new IT Chapter 2 that I may end up including...not sure.
> 
> My internal math with the Losers' ages was waaayyy off, but like...all you need to know is that they're adults. Yeah.
> 
> Also, don't worry, guys, Stanley is gonna be fine. I promise.


	4. The Hunt Begins

The wind rustled through the trees. There was an alien stillness here that settled over the land, a centuries old quiet, a stiff upper lip, a very unwelcoming, dead silence. 

He knew the way, still remembered it after all these years, the paths still unchanged, or, perhaps, only unchanged for him, for his footsteps specifically. He was aware that anyone who should not be here would never be allowed this deep into the abandoned, alive, heart of the forest.

When he saw the giant snake coiled up in the sun, he did not scream in terror or run from the clearing. It had been a long time since he’d seen the old serpent, but still, he was not afraid. The serpent reared up, as if about to strike, coal-dark narrow head and golden eyes appraising him. But though the gaze could be paralyzing, and was just for the nature of it, still, he was not afraid.

“Hello, Crowley,” he said.

~

“Hello?”

“Bill, it’s Mike.”

“Hello?”

“Eddie, Richie, it’s Mike Hanlon.”

“Hello?”

“Bev, Ben, it’s Mike. From Derry.”

“Hello?”

“Stan, it’s Mike Hanlon. From Derry.”

~

A carnival to celebrate the start of summer. Rides and funnel cakes and step-right-up barkers. A cacophony of sound; people, music, delighted screams, lovers whispering, get-your-hot-dogs-here shouts. A vibrant light show in red and orange, yellow and white. No one would dare sleep through it. No one could.

There was hatred here, still. There will always be those who hate the ones who are different. And even though higher powers had decided that all were equal in the eyes of the law, that didn’t stop personal prejudices. 

A rowdy group of boys cornered the young gay couple. In the fight, Adrian Mellon falls off of the bridge and into the river below. The water is cold and swift in the dark of the summer night, and Don Hagerty runs after his partner, shouting his name into the dark.

“Adrian! Adrian!”

Adrian can barely keep his head above water. As he bobs, trying to swim parallel to the current as he was always taught to do by his mother in a riptide, he sees a man in a clown suit holding out his hand.

Little does he know it will be the last hand he ever takes.

With Don watching, the clown’s hideous smiling face transforms and bites into Adrian’s side. The blood spatter covers his face and he chortles in glee. Don can’t see through the thousands of red balloons that flood the canal’s skies.

But the clown is gone. And when he tries to speak to someone, anyone, about how his partner was killed, no one believes him.

~

Crowley lowers his great head, snout level with Mike’s eyes. They are looking at each other intently, a greeting. Mike lifts his hand, like he would to pet a horse, resting it on the snake’s snout. Crowley cannot naturally speak in this form, though he can communicate telepathically with those who are open to him. He closes his eyes and pushes with his mind, gently, into Mike’s. A Glamour has a natural ability to get inside one’s head, but transmitting thoughts is tricky business. Without permission, it can only be done when one is suggestible; young or ill or autistic or drunk.

But Mike is willing, and Crowley opens his eyes to gaze at a man who has grown from a child. A child that was not his, exactly, but under his protection nonetheless. “Mike,” Crowley’s inner voice sounds much like his own, the accent he wears like a mask familiar, though the inner tones are deeper, calmer, sleepier. They are more suggestive tones, to be sure, and with Mike open to him, he could tempt, if he chose. But Mike is not prey, Crowley is not that sort of Glamour, and Mike needs him. “It’s been a long time.”

Mike smiles, nods. The fear in him is wrong. It has wrapped around his entire being like a vice. Were Crowley hungrier, his mouth would water and his Deadlights would feel like heartburn in his throat. As it is, the fear is only worrying. Crowley waits for Mike to get his thoughts in order.

“It’s back,” Mike says. “The clown. Derry’s Glamour. It’s back.”

~

Predators love to prey on the weak and helpless. Pennywise is no exception. 

Under the metal bleachers of a children’s baseball stadium, he steals away a little girl. 

A little girl, with a splotchy red birthmark covering her cheek.

No one deserves to die, except abusers and murderers, but children especially do not deserve to die. Once upon a time, a pathologist told a young detective: “Adults, you can reason with yourself about. But children? Children don’t deserve death.” 

Pennywise didn’t even let her scream.

~

The serpent hisses, its eyes glowing momentarily, and then, in an instant, Mike is no longer touching a snake. His hand is pressed against the cool forehead of a red-haired gentleman who has changed so much, and yet, not at all.

“The othersss,” Crowley whispers, still hissing. “Have you told--?”

Mike nods. “I told Katie and Georgie. They’re calling Jack and Wren.” He frowns. “We all made a pact. I would understand if…”

“Of course I’ll come,” Crowley says, his unguarded eyes wild. “When?”

“We should all be together by tonight,” Mike replies. “We’re meeting at the Chinese restaurant in Derry.”

Crowley nods. “I’ll be around,” he says. “I promise.”

“Good.” Mike pats his shoulder. “I’ve gotta get back. Good day, Crowley.”

Crowley hummed to himself, not bothering with a polite goodbye. Mike had something up his sleeve, an idea.

Ideas were dangerous in humans.

He had to go tell Aziraphale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to add chapter names.
> 
> I'll go do that at some point.
> 
> Also, I skipped over some *ahem* gory details of Pennywise's killings, bcs that seemed like something that my previous readers appreciated. And also bcs we don't want to linger on Pennywise killing kids. Yeah.


	5. I Remember

Bev’s memories of her childhood were fuzzy at best. 

The official story seemed to be that she’d gone to live with her aunt, her mother’s sister, after her father had been placed in the hospital and was seen as “unfit” to care for her. But that, it seemed, was only covering up for something. She couldn’t quite remember it exactly, though.

Mike’s call had loosened some of the memories from her brain. She remembered the clown, remembered their trek into the sewers, remembered she’d been the one to put her dad in the hospital. But there were puzzle pieces missing, and she couldn’t remember what they were. Ben didn’t have an answer for her, either, claiming that she’d been the one to tell him about living with her aunt.

Never mind that her aunt was clear across the country. That was the bit that didn’t fit the most.

A bump in the road startled her into full wakefulness. She’d tried to grow her hair long before--had, in fact, during her modeling days--but decided that having a pixie cut suited her. She’d always loved the way her hair curled up around her ears when her hair was short and shaggy.

The flight they’d caught had been early. She was surprised to find Adam wide awake and ready to go. Adam had a...complicated medical history that left him vulnerable in a lot of ways, so she and Ben had made the decision to get him an emotional support animal. More precisely, a dog, that Adam had, creatively enough, named “Dog.”

Dog was not your typical pick for an emotional support animal, but their home in Chicago was modest, and Dog’s even temperament and Adam’s instant bond with the scrappy terrier made it a no-brainer. Adam had improved so much since getting Dog, and Bev and Ben didn’t regret the decision. Even if airport security was a real bastard about Dog’s papers.

Needless to say, she was exhausted, and was glad when Ben offered to drive. Her husband had brief flirtations with words like “vegan” and “keto” and “paleo,” which she had been supportive of, naturally, because she loved him, but when she found him in tears, defeated, on the bathroom floor in front of a scale, she told him that she loved the way that he looked, had always loved his looks even when they were kids, and threw out every bathroom scale they had in the house the next day. Ben was happier after that, and she was relieved. All those specialty diets were a bitch to cook, even with influencer sponsorships.

Beverly had not smoked in years, had stopped sometime during her childhood (another foggy memory), but something about this town made her itch for a smoke. It seemed a little too idyllic. “Where are we?” She asked in a low voice. Adam was not quite asleep in the back of the rental car, Dog lying across his lap, but she didn’t want to disturb his peace. 

“A town called London,” Ben replied. “Derry’s just over the county line, but all the hotels were full when I called to book.”

Bev nodded dustractedly, looking up at the old-fashioned buildings and wondering why London seemed so familiar.

~

Richie yawned obnoxiously and flopped down onto the bed, his wild mop of curls fanning out around his head. Eddie would say it looked like a halo, except his husband was far from angelic. Warlock wanted some “alone time” in the bathroom, and from the tinny sound coming out of the speakers of his phone, it sounded like “alone time” was being used to reapply eyeliner.

“What’s wrong?” Richie asked dozily, supporting himself on his elbows on the bed. “You’ve been out of sorts since we checked in.”

Eddie sighed, his breath condensing on the window he was leaning against. “It’s this town...something about it, I can’t quite…”

“Hey, hey,” Richie soothed, standing up and embracing him around the waist. “You’re okay, all right? You know your therapist said that you probably blocked out your childhood because of traumatic circumstances. Don’t push yourself to try to remember something that could trigger a panic attack.”

Eddie leaned back into his husband’s welcoming embrace, sliding a hand over where Richie’s were knotted at his ribcage. “I haven’t had a panic attack in years, Richie,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to Richie’s throat just to watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “I’ll be fine. London just seems...familiar, that’s all.”

“Ewww, gross!” Warlock made a vomiting noise. “Go be yucky and romantic somewhere else.”

Richie turned around, forcing Eddie to turn as well, and squeezed him, making the other man squeak. “Oh, so sorry, Warlock, but we just loooooveeee each other sooooo much.”

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly and pulled his husband in for a kiss. 

Warlock groaned. “I wanna go out to get some ice cream. Can I?”

“Don’t stay out too late,” Eddie told him, his lips still brushing against Richie’s, who had gone a bit boneless from the kiss. “Dad and I have to go to dinner tonight.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Warlock replied, which meant something along the lines of “yes pops,” and slammed the hotel door shut with a bang.

Richie and Eddie looked at each other and laughed. 

“That was fun,” Richie grinned. “Let’s do that more often.”

Eddie groaned. “You’re ridiculous. Why did I marry you?”

“Because I’m a good fuck,” Richie said confidently, which earned him a playfully irritated smack to the ass.

~

Adam was hanging out in the lobby with Dog while his parents were unpacking upstairs when he saw a very cool-looking boy with long hair and bangs that went into his eyes, faded black lipstick, and smudged eyeliner walking out the door. The boy looked his age, and he was lonely, so he loped after him. “Hey! Hey! I’m Adam, and this is Dog. What’s your name?”

Warlock looked the prep boy up and down appraisingly. He looked like a ray of sunshine with his knowing smile and mop of angelic, dirty blonde curls. Gross. “I’m Warlock,” he said.

“That’s a cool name,” Adam whined. “Wish my parents were cool enough to name me something like that.”

“‘S not my real name, idiot,” Warlock snapped. “Duh. It’s a nickname.”

“Ooh,” Adam grinned. “I could have one, too! Then we’d both have cool names!”

Warlock scoffed. “’S too hard to make a nickname for Adam, though. You’d just be, like…” His eyes widened. “Like Ad!”

Adam laughed. “Yeah! Like Jenna’s hamster.”

“Wait, you watch Jenna Marbles too?” Warlock’s eyes widened. 

“Yeah, duh.” Adam grinned. “Who doesn’t?”

“I was gonna get ice cream,” Warlock said. “My dads wanna unpack ‘n shit. You wanna come?”

“Ice cream sounds good,” Adam agreed. “Hey! You have two dads?”

Warlock bristled, feeling defensive. “Yeah? What about it?”

“Nothin, just…” Adam thought a moment, winding his fingers through Dog’s leash, “it must be like a real boy’s club at your house.”

Warlock relaxed, glad his new friend seemed the cool type, despite his questionable fashion sense. “Guess so. C’mon, then, Ad.”

Adam laughed, following his new friend, who seemed like a cool guy, despite his questionable fashion sense.

~

When Warlock and Adam got to the ice cream parlor, they stumbled into an argument between two boys and a girl standing at the front of the ice cream display case. 

“No, OBVIOUSLY vanilla is the best flavor because it tastes best with mix-ins!” The girl had her hands on her hips, lower lip turned out in a pout.

“But if you get rocky road, then you don’t have to pay extra for mix-ins!” A dirty boy with black hair pointed out.

“But with vanilla, you PICK your mi-ins!”

“Pepper’s got a point,” the third child, a scrawny boy with circular glasses who probably thought he was Harry Potter or something with his whisper of a British accent, pointed out. “Walnuts are the most icky nut there is. If I had made rocky road, I wouldn’t have put any nuts in it.”

Pepper nodded in satisfaction. “There! That settles it! We’ll all get vanilla.”

“Actually, Pepper,” Harry Potter tugged on her sleeve, “I don’t like vanilla either. I like pistachio.”

“Oh my God, of course you do, Wensley,” Pepper groaned. “Next you’re gonna tell me you like prune juice and read the newspaper.”

“Actually--”

“Hey, ‘scuse us,” Adam walked up to the group, Warlock trailing behind. “I know what I’d like already, so can I order?”

“We were here first,” the dirty boy protested.

Warlock looked at the teen behind the counter, who didn’t seem at all impressed. “Why don’t you just each get the flavors you like? That way, nobody has to fight.”

The three children looked as if they hadn’t considered that.

“Vanilla’s still superior,” Pepper muttered as they ordered their cones.

“Oh, fudge,” Adam complained. “I forgot I didn’t have my wallet with me! I left it in the hotel room.”

“Here,” Pepper slapped some bills on the counter. “I’ll pay. Dad always sends me with extra, anyways.”

“Thanks.” Adam smiled shyly, licking his cookie dough cone. 

“You said “hotel”?” Harry Potter asked.

“Yep,” Warlock said, taking a bite out of his mint chip cone. “I’m Warlock, ‘n this is Adam. I live in New York, actually.”

“And I live in Chicago, actually,” Adam said. “‘N this is Dog. Say hi, Dog.” 

Dog barked.

“You named your dog Dog?” Pepper raised an eyebrow. “Weirdo.”

“‘S just easier,” Adam replied.

“Oh,” Pepper said, chomping on an M&M that was falling off the top of her cone, “I’m Pepper. This is Wensleydale an’ Brian.”

“We live here,” Brian said helpfully. “I’m just up the lane that way, ‘n Wenslley’s just down the street from me.”

“Where do you live, Pepper?” Adam asked.

Pepper grinned. “Somewhere really cool. Wanna see?”

~

“Adam’s not back yet,” Ben said, pulling back from his laptop. 

Bev sighed. “I’ll go get him. He couldn’t have gone far.”

~

“Yo,” Richie poked his head around the bathroom door as Eddie was doing his hair. “Scamp’s not back yet. Want me to call him?”

“No, I’ll go get him,” Eddie sighed fondly, washing the pomade off his hands. “He’s probably sulking along the side of a building someplace.”

~

“Eddie?”

Eddie turned around, shocked by the familiar voice. “Bev?” He was startled by a tight hug. “Bev, it is you!” He recognized the pixie cut now. Something deep in his psyche said “sister,” but he couldn’t get it free to examine it properly.

“How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine, just had to go out looking for our son.”

“I’m out looking for mine, actually. We should look together. You know what they say about two heads.”

“Sure, I’d love the help! How are you? How’s Ben?”

“Oh, fine, fine. And Richie?”

“Great, he’s great.”

The two old friends didn’t even realize the path they were taking took them out of the city limits. It was drawing them to a place so familiar to them both, but they were unaware of its significance.

“You know,” Bev said thoughtfully, daintily stepping across some slippery river stones, “I remember this place. Something about it…”

“Yeah,” Eddie mused, “I do, too. Huh.” He rubbed his temple, reaching out to help Bev to the shoreline. “Must be some kinda deja-vu.”

“Thanks,” Bev took Eddie’s hand, allowing him to pull her from the rock to the shore. “Yeah, must be. Weird.”

But the path they tread seemed welcoming, familiar. It felt like coming home. There was laughter coming from up ahead, and for a moment, both Eddie and Bev were swept backwards in time, remembering their own laughter, here, echoing through these woods.

“Adam!”

“Warlock!”

Bev was the first to make it into the clearing, and suddenly, everything was still.

Her son, three boys and a girl she didn’t know, and Dog, were playing cards in the grass. A large cabin with a chimney spilled whorls of smoke out into the summer dusk.

And a giant red and black snake with glittering, golden eyes was coiled up just inches from where the children played. It looked at her and Eddie as though it were looking through them, into another time and place.

Bev and Eddie both spoke in unison.

“Dad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember for the life of me if IT Ch. 2 (the modern version, which is what my timeline is, in case you were lost) was set in 2016 or 2019, but let's just pretend that if Jenna Marbles didn't have her hamster in 2016 that she did. 
> 
> (I mean technically this is an alternate universe, so like...who knows, am I right?)
> 
> Also, most of the casting for IT 2 I think is fine, except that I think my Ben looks more like John Ritter, who played him in the original miniseries, and nothing against Bill Hader, but if you've ever seen Dan Avidan and Finn Wolfhard next to each other...it's pretty clear who I fancast as Richie. ;)


	6. New and Old Greetings

“He isn’t your dad,” Pepper cut in, her tone bratty. “He’s my dad!”

Crowley slithered forward, transforming into his (newish) human form. “Parents can have more than one child, Pepper,” he scolded absently. “Like your Auntie Kate.” He approached Bev and Eddie, arms outstretched. “Beverly. Edward. So good to see you both again.”

Bev and Eddie stood silent, shocked, trembling. Crowley dropped his arms, realizing that this might not have been the happy reunion that he’d been hoping for. Pepper approached, followed cautiously by Brian, Wensleydale, and then Adam and Warlock, the children gathering in around Crowley’s legs.

“Are they gonna give you trouble, the grown-ups?” Pepper asked. She was not a hugger, nor was she often outwardly affectionate (not a reflection of Crowley’s parenting; it was merely how she was). Her love was demonstrative, and she stepped in front of Crowley. “Don’t upset my dad, or you’ll be sorry,” she warned.

Crowley put his hand on her shoulder, gently holding her back. “It’s all right, Pepper.”

Bev clutched her heart, memories flooding back to her in dizzying waves. Her father’s abuse, meeting Crowley, the last straw, the battle against the clown in the sewers, the dark summer night, blinding gold Deadlights, a new home under the stars, a Maypole dance with Ben, building the clubhouse, summers spent loping between Derry and London, growing up well-loved and wanting for nothing...it was all there. She should be afraid, especially because her son was playing not too far from Crowley, but she wasn’t. She never had been.

Crowley was different.

Eddie seemed to be coming to a similar conclusion, except… “Oh God...my mom…” He hugged himself, folding into his own chest. “I...I still feel guilty. I never expected…”

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” Crowley apologized. “I...I do think it was for the best, but…”

“No,” Eddie came to his senses, standing strong. “I don’t regret it. I don’t. Not anymore.” He looked to Bev. “You remember, too. Catching fireflies in the woods, fishing with string and worms in the river, finding snakes and lizards. My mock-wedding with Richie.” He looked to Crowley. “You made the stars shine so bright, they reflected in the water. I remember. Richie and I kissed under the moonlight.” He sighed. “It was wonderful.”

Crowley beamed. “My children, I’m so glad to see you again.” He seemed to glow with pride. “My, how you’ve grown!” 

Adam and Warlock, who had been sort of stunned by the fiasco, returned to the sides of their respective parents. Adam embraced his mom without hesitation, and even Warlock, who was also not a hugger, embraced his dad. Crowley smiled. “Ah, so the unfamiliar scamps belong to you. I should’ve known. Adam reminds me of Ben, but he has your spark, Bev. And you’re raising Warlock to be a fine young man, Eddie. I see he’d taken after Richie in his most rebellious phase.”

“Thanks,” Eddie smiled back. “That means a lot.” His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he groaned, checking it. “Fuck. Speaking of Richie, this is him calling. I’m late for dinner.”

Adam mouthed at Warlock: “Your dad said a bad word.”

Warlock mouthed back: “I know, isn’t it cool?”

“Oh, that means I’m late, too,” Bev smacked her forehead. “What will I do with Adam? I can’t let him walk back alone! Not at night!”

“I’ll make sure they’re safe,” Crowley replied. “Go on, you two. I’ve got to fetch Aziraphale, and then I’ll be there, too. He loves a good Chinese.”

Eddie and Bev nodded, trusting their father, and then, shyly, gave him a hug. Crowley wrapped his arms around them as well, squeezing them gently.

“I missed you, dad.” Bev whispered. “It’s good to see you, too.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Likewise.” He pulled back, glancing at Bev. “We’d better go. Guess we’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah.” Crowley nodded. “Go on, you two.”

Eddie and Bev smiled, and made their way back down the path they had followed up here, a path only known to those who were welcome here.

Crowley turned to Wensleydale. “I’m sure your mother wouldn’t mind looking after your friends for a while, would she?”

Wensleydale shrugged. “If you do that thing you do, then probably not.”

“Excellent.” Crowley clasped his hands together. “Go on there, then. Pepper, I’ll be sure to pick you up later.”

“K, dad.” Pepper waved as the children made their way out of the woods as well. 

Crowley settled himself and then went to get Aziraphale. Tonight was of the utmost importance, after all. 

It would reunite the Losers and the Campsite Kids, once and for all.

~

It oddly felt just like when they were kids. 

Obviously after moving to London, Bev and Eddie started attending the schools in London with Katie, Wren, and Jack, but every day, as soon as school let out, the Losers and the Campsite Kids would reunite, either at the Barrens, the old campsite, or somebody’s house. They’d trade stories about crazy teachers, new bullies, and complain about homework. Mike, having been homeschooled, seemed to struggle the most with the concepts of homework and studying, which made good students Ben and Stanley laugh. Bill, Bev, Wren, and Eddie were all average students, though Wren was a teacher’s pet and could get away with anything; she just didn’t like studying much. Jack and Richie weren’t great students, though that didn’t mean they weren’t smart. Over the years, Katie became a straight A student, while Georgie got Bs and Cs. 

This reunion, then, was kind of like that. The longer the gang spent in Derry, the more they remembered. Mike was the glue that helped the puzzle pieces stick, and the old friends were quick to fall into familiar habits. 

After they’d ordered their food, with a little help from Katie, who could speak a little Chinese after having a pen pal who was bilingual back in the day, a sort of awkward silence settled in around the group as tension began to rise to the surface. Bev especially had been stewing in jealousy at Katie’s pregnancy, and she couldn’t stand the lack of inertia in the room. Richie has been trying, bless his heart, to start the conversation again, to no avail. Part of it, of course, was the serious circumstances that had brought them all here. 

Bev stood up from the table, fussing with her purse. “I’ll just be a minute.” 

Ben, obviously able to feel his wife’s tension, gently grabbed her arm. “Bev? Is everything all right?” He asked in a hushed tone. 

“Yeah,” Bev replied, trying to smile sincerely, “just need to touch up my lipstick.” 

Ben wasn’t convinced, but let it go. He didn’t like Bev’s habit of smoking away her stress, but he realized that smoking was a difficult habit to break entirely. And if there were ever a time for stress smoking, he reasoned, it would be now. 

Wren watched Bev get up, and pulled away from the table as well. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said, quickly following after Bev. 

Beverly was standing out in the gloomy night, her form catching the neon lights around her, smoking a cigarette. As she exited the restaurant, Wren distantly heard a joke finally land, and the others got started in another conversation. That was good. It would put them more at ease for the serious conversation they were no doubt holding off on, waiting for the ladies. 

As Wren walked up, Bev offered her a cigarette. “Thank you,” Wren said, holding it between her fingers and watching the end burn out without smoking it. She knew it would be easier to let Bev start talking, as opposed to trying to get anything out of her. 

Bev exhaled into the damp summer night and sighed. “Katie’s pregnant, isn’t she?” 

Wren nodded. “Yes. She told me once she was a week along. I believe she’s eight months along, or so.” 

Bev scowled. “Ben and I tried,” she said bitterly. “We tried everything, spent thousands on in vitro, but nothing ever took.” She shook her head, chuckling darkly. “Finally, I went to the doctor about it, had both of us tested. I wanted to know it wasn’t my fault, that maybe my childhood trauma hadn’t ruined everything for us,” she took a long drag before continuing. “We both came back negative. Infertile.” She turned to Wren, tears flooding her eyes. “I love Adam. I do, with all my heart. But it isn’t fair, Wren! What are the odds we were both infertile?! Why does she get…?” Bev shook, then looked guiltily at Wren. “I-I’m sorry. She’s your niece and my sister…”

“It’s all right,” Wren replied calmly. “I understand.” She turned over the lit cigarette in her hand, staring at it in contemplation. “It’s a side effect of being exposed to Glamours,” she said. “Dad told me once, long ago, that I might never have children. That it was a certainty after I’d been in contact with two of them.” She sighed. “I never wanted children. I love them, but I’d much rather care for animals. I’m happy for Katie, but I’m happy being an aunt.” She looked up at Bev. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine…”

Bev stomped out her cigarette. “But Katie was with us, too! Why is Katie allowed to have what I wanted more than anything?!” Tears fell down her cheeks, but she wasn’t going to fall apart. She was good at that, not falling apart. It had been the crux of a portion of her childhood, after all. 

Wren shrugged, leaning back against a nearby planter. “After that summer, Jack and I figured out that Katie was special. Dad had chosen her, though I don’t think it was on purpose. He shared his power, and she shared hers. I’m not surprised she was able to conceive. If she wanted a child, her powers would give her one, one way or another.” 

Bev’s eyes widened. “What the fuck?! Is she even human?!” 

Wren hummed, letting the flames on the edge of the cigarette lick her skin. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “After spending so much time around dad, are any of us as human as we once were? It’s hard to say.” 

Bev crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a bone deep, sorrowful sigh. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’d never thought of it that way.” 

Wren tossed her cigarette and stood, resting a hand on Bev’s shoulder. “C’mon. We’d better get back inside.” 

The two women went back inside, arm in arm. From afar, Crowley watched with a critical eye. “Storm’s comin,” he murmured. 

“What was that, my dear?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Nothing, Angel,” Crowley replied, distracted. “Just thinking out loud.” He stepped forward, heading towards the restaurant. “C’mon. Mike was talking about this “ritual of Chud” earlier, and I don’t want them trying that on an ageless Glamour.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” Aziraphale followed after Crowley. “Say...sushi is Japanese, isn’t it? That’s too bad. I was hoping I could order some to go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are we on chapter 6 already? I haven't written that much content for this book...have I?
> 
> (Yikes)
> 
> Anywho...I just found out today that there have been coronavirus cases near where I live, and my school is extending spring break another week.
> 
> And my work at the museum starts up soon, which means an exposure to kids from around the county. 
> 
> "Stressed" is an understatement.


	7. The Ritual of Chud

There was a pleasant, yet potent, spell cast over the group as they sat waiting for their fortune cookies in a Chinese restaurant in Derry, Maine. There had been laughter and joy, but now, it was quiet. They knew why they were all here now. And the presence of a Glamour in their midst, friendly or not, was felt, as if they’d all stuck their hands in ice. 

“It’s bringing back so many memories,” Ben finally said. “Being here. It’s like I never left.” 

The others who had left nodded in agreement. Crowley took a sip of his beer. 

“We hadn’t even gone far,” Georgie said. “Katie and I. But we’d forgotten a lot of it.” 

“But you were young when it happened,” Bill comforted his brother kindly, resting a hand on his arm. “That could easily be from trauma just as much as it’s from the Glamour.” He looked at Crowley. “Couldn’t it?” 

Several pairs of eyes oscillated towards Crowley. The creature, dressed like a shadow but for his wild red hair, merely made a small motion with his left shoulder. “Possibly,” he allowed, “though Glamour magic is stronger than you might imagine.” His gaze, though none of them could follow it because of his sunglasses, slid out across the restaurant, feeling more than seeing the marks of Pennywise, even here, in this little human establishment. “Even I’m not entirely sure about the full extent of my powers. We thrive on our own imaginations, and those of others.” 

Stanley looked nervously at the group. “I...I almost didn’t come,” he admitted. “I’m terrified...none of you saw...as much of IT as I did.”

“Except Bev.” Bill said, folding his hands on the table. “She saw Pennywise’s Deadlights and lived to tell the tale.” 

“We can beat him,” Mike clenched his fist, resting it heavily on the table. “We can beat the creature once and for all, send it packing.” He looked around the table at all of them. “We all have to go back to IT’s lair, kill IT while it’s caught unawares.” 

“It isn’t,” Aziraphale piped up. He had been so quiet that the others had nearly forgotten he was there. It was hard to forget Crowley when he wasn’t trying to move unseen, not so much a burning beacon as a subtle twist of energy and light around an area of space-time. But Aziraphale could blend, could make his energy look like nothing. It was the best Maturin’s agents could do: disappear. “You think It is naive enough not to be on the lookout for you? It knows one of you makes his home in Derry. It knows humans travel in packs. It has observed you for centuries.” He shook his head, chuckling darkly. “Of course it knows you’re here.” 

There was a silence among the gathered humans as they processed that information. Jack, Wren, and Katie were used to being known by a Glamour, so they were less surprised, but it was still unnerving. It is always unsettling to go from feeling secure to feeling like you’re being watched. 

“I can’t do it again,” Stan murmured, rocking on his heels. “I can’t go through with it again,” 

“You’ll be okay, Stan,” Eddie reassured him. “We’ll be right beside you, every step of the way.” 

Stan shuddered, shaking his head. “It was supposed to be like that last time,” he murmured. “But I was lost...alone…”

“No you weren’t,” Katie replied, sitting upright against the table, knocking it with her belly. “We were there with you, Georgie and I.”

Georgie nodded solemnly. “If it comes to that again, Stan, Katie and I will be with you.”

“Okay,” Richie said, “so how do we beat this fucker?”

“And how will our children be safe?” Bev asked, looking at Crowley nervously.

“They’re with friends in London right now, and they can stay there indefinitely if need be,” Crowley reassured the parents. “Wensleydale’s parents are safe in their mundanity. Even if Pennywise were to come into London, he would never find them there.”

Aziraphale touched Crowley’s arm, knowing the Glamour’s conviction was hollow. His magic would help keep them hidden, though. It would have to be enough. As long as the children never set foot in Derry, Pennywise wouldn’t know how to track them.

“There’s a ritual,” Mike began, “an ancient ritual used by the Native Americans who lived here to get rid of Pennywise.”

Crowley laughed, a deep belly guffaw. The humans, and Aziraphale, turned to glare at him in shock.

“Dad,” Wren scolded, “that’s rude.”

“I’m sorry,” Crowley settled, cradling his belly, “but whatever those natives told you, about any sort of ritual working, was a lie.” He leaned forward, waving his hands to create a window into the past. “Tell them what you know, Mike,” he added, “as I’ve only seen this from the side of the banishee.”

Mike nodded and began. The Losers and the Campsite kids watched with rapt attention as Crowley’s magic told them the visual tale. “It’s called the Ritual of Chud. Years ago, the Native Americans put together this ritual where they sacrificed the things they loved the most, the objects that held the most potent memories, into a raging bonfire.”

The window into the past showed the figures of four Native American elders throwing trinkets into the flames, sitting in a circle and chanting. A terrifying form of Pennywise that looked like a man...if a man could live without skin, appeared at the edge of the circle, looking to be in pain before three balls of light, representing the Deadlights, swirled into the circle, spinning in the smoke from the fire, spinning and twisting around as the elders chanted.

“That was what I saw,” Mike admitted. “I went to talk to the tribe that lives locally in Derry, the Shokopiwah tribe, and they told me about the ritual.”

“Dad,” Katie reached for her father worriedly, taking his hand. “You said...you were banished…?”

“That can’t be true!” Jack argued. “You’ve lived in London for, like, 6000 years!”

Crowley chuckled, squeezing Katie’s hand reassuringly. “More than that, I can assure you. The Shokopiwah communicated with my tribe at the time, the Wabanaki, and encouraged them to try the ritual. But their convictions were not strong enough to banish me from the land they inhabited. After all, by that time, I had already decided that I was going to help, not harm. I had made short work of some trappers that were killing off their food supply. They called me “The Night”. So, no, the ritual didn’t work on me.”

“But did it work on Pennywise?” Bill asked.

Crowley gave Bill a look over his sunglasses. “Pennywise is still here, in Derry,” he said. “What do you think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I thought it was dumb that Mike lied to them about the ritual not working. (I liked MatPat's theory about Eddie's sacrifice allowing the ritual to work, but I thought that was morbid, so obviously, I decided against it.) Also, Mike did not steal from the Native Americans. 
> 
> (They may, however, find themselves inclined to donate some of their texts to Aziraphale...)
> 
> The Wabanaki are a group of tribes in Maine. Though I think this is the modern name they have adapted, I thought it was better than trying to make up a tribe. Who can say? I'm not a Native American, so I don't actually know which is worse. If someone would like to give their opinion, I'm all ears!


	8. Blame It All On...

“Gonna guess nobody wants dessert?” Richie asked. Eddie smacked his arm, hard enough that Richie whined out a mournful “ow!”

Aziraphale cleared his throat, and the humans and Glamour all turned to look at him. “So, there are some inconsistencies, with your story about the Ritual of Chud,” he began, drumming the fingers of one hand against his knee. “For one, though your native peoples may have used the Ritual, it was given to them by Maturin Himself, likely delivered by one of his Agents.” He thought privately to himself that the Agent who had been working on Earth at that time was Gabriel, who hated Earth, Earthlings, and everything about it, and who had probably explained everything all wrong, leading to the Ritual’s failure. “Furthermore, the original keepers of the Ritual were from Nepal, and they had a different name for Glamours.”

“Don’t lookit me,” Crowley muttered, “‘Ve never been to Nepal.”

Mike looked like he was going to ask Aziraphale for more information (the two bookworms had always gotten along; how sweet) when a young waitress carrying a tray of fortune cookies and the bill returned, setting it down in the center of the table. “Whenever you’re ready, folks.” She didn’t seem to see Aziraphale and Crowley as she wandered off.

Crowley shuddered. Something was...off. It wasn’t until Richie and Jack reached for the cookies that he realized it, though, and he jumped up immediately, shouting: “No! Don’t!”

But it was too late.

~

“It’s my turn to be Player One!”

“Tisn’t! I get one more round!”

“It is! Honest!”

Adam trembled a bit, gripping Dog and holding him tight as Pepper, with fire in her eyes, reached imperiously for the controller and Brian held back.

“You’re a miserable spoiled brat, Pepper,” Warlock snipped, barely looking up from his phone. “Give Adam a turn.”

“Take back that I’m spoilt,” Pepper stuck her nose in the air.

“Fine,” Warlock rolled his eyes, gently touching Adam’s knee. “Ad, d’ya wanna be Player 1 or Player 2?”

“Can I be Player 1, please?” Adam asked, mostly into Dog’s scruffy fur.

“Sure.” Warlock handed over the Player 1 controller and settled in to be player 2.

“But you are spoilt, Pepper,” Wensleydale pointed out logically, though no one paid him any mind.

“Gee, Warlock,” Pepper teased, “that was nice of you.”

“Shut up!” Warlock whined, leaning to and fro with his character on screen. “‘M not nice! Black metal fans aren’t nice. They’re things like “evil” and “sinful” and “demonic.” Not nice.”

Pepper scoffed. “I could go outside ‘n find a garden snake, ‘n it’d be more demonic ‘n you.”

“Ooh, powerup!” Brian pointed excitedly at the screen. “Quick! Before it goes away!”

“How do I supercharge him?”

“Press B repeatedly.”

Wensleydale’s mother, a mousey woman who looked as though she had stepped right out of a 50s “Home and Garden” magazine and probably had a name like “Marcy” or “Eunice,” poked her head around the corner of the kitchen. “Twenty more minutes on your game, children! Then you’re to switch to a board game!”

“Okay, mom,” Wensleydale said politely.

“Don’t clean your glasses on your sweater, junior. Oh, Brian, what have I said about shoes on the carpet!”

“Sorry, Mrs. W.”

“Will you be staying for dinner, Pepper?”

Pepper nodded. “Dad said he’d be back later.”

“Right.” Mrs. Wensleydale smoothed down her apron, mentally counting the minutes until her husband pulled up in the drive. “One of these days, I’m going to have a talk with your father. It’s not decent at all.”

“You always say that,” Pepper said offhandedly. 

“Do I?” Mrs. Wensleydale couldn’t fathom being that rude to anyone more than once, even if the target of her ire was an irresponsible father (whom she was pretty sure she’d seen in a dress once or twice and, well, not that she was judging, but whyever did a man have to pull off a chartruece dress better than she did?) who let his child run around rampant and go camping every day of the week. A young gentleman, perhaps, needed the open air, but Pepper should be taught to act like a lady. And be taught to go by her proper name, instead of a silly nickname. 

“Yeah,” Pepper rolled her eyes. “You never do, though.”

“Really, Pepper, one mustn’t tell lies,” Mrs. Wensleydale said, turning back to the kitchen. “It’s really not decent.” There was a sudden knock at the front door. “Well., spak of the Devil! I imagine that’s your father, Pepper.”

Pepper looked up from her phone and shook her head. “Can’t be. He’dve texted me.”

Dog, who had been resting quietly by Adam’s side, sudden;y lifted his head and started growling. Pepper stood up. She’d seen who was standing at the window...and it didn’t look anything like her father.

“Wait! Mrs. W!”

But it was too late. There was a thump as a body hit the ground, and then footsteps in the hall. The children cuddled around themselves as the sickly sweet smell of a carnival mixed with blood and sewage surrounded them.

“Good evening, children,” a distorted, carnie voice that cut through the air like a blade echoed in the quiet room, “let’s have some fun. Who likes...balloons?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my attempt to retcon everything.
> 
> Moondust_Yikisoul pointed it out to me briefly, and flamethrower wrote me a novel of information in my comments section which I throughly enjoyed reading. I thank you, diehard fans of the book, for sticking with me regardless.
> 
> I just realized this book will probably be so much shorter than London Bridge...though I thought London Bridge was going to be short, and it turned into 39 chapters, so...we'll see.


	9. A Warning to the Liar

There was a massive panic as several disgusting creatures crawled out of the fortune cookies. Some were filled with blood, one was filled with a cockroach, another with some abomination of a human infant and a mosquito, and yet another held a baby bird, chirping weakly. 

Crowley felt his veins tingling, his body shuddering, as fear filled their area of the dining room. It was so extreme that, for a moment, it flooded all of his senses. Mike picked up a chair and smashed at the table, broken dishes, water glasses, utensils, uneaten food, splattered everywhere. Stanley was trembling, and looked to be about to have a panic attack, Bev and Ben were holding onto each other, Georgie had thrown his body over Katie’s to protect her, and Richie and Eddie were far too stunned to say anything.

Aziraphale stood up placidly as the table’s legs broke and miracled away any injuries that had been sustained, helping to calm Stan’s nerves with a bit of a soothing sedative produced from his jacket pocket. Crowley adjusted his jacket fussily.

A waitress came around the corner, and Richie finally found his voice: “Check please.”

Crowley sudden;y jumped up, his eyes wide. “The children!” He looked wildly to Aziraphale. “I’ve left them...oh fuck!”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened, too. “Oh, my dear boy…”

“What is it?” Eddie demanded as Richie, Bill, Mike, and Ben tried to talk down the waitress abd settle the accounts. “What happened to Warlock?”

“What about Adam?” Bev asked. “Is he okay?”

Crowley began to pace, running his hands through his hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...I’ve got to go. Now.” And the Glamour disappeared in a puff of smoke. A second later, the sound of screeching car wheels sounded from the window outside.

“But what about--” Eddie trailed off as Aziraphale placed his hand on his shoulder. “Everything is fine,” he murmured, letting his powers overwhelm the group. “Go to the library. Have a drink with your old friend. In the morning, refamiliarize yourselves with the town. Everything will be well.”

Aziraphale could be a great liar when he wanted to be. Hurry, Crowley, he thought.

~

Crowley burst through the front door, immediately greeted by a wall of thick cobwebs. He formed claws on his hands as sharp as a velociraptor’s and sliced his way through them, eyes glowing with rage behind his sunglasses. “I sssmell them,” he hissed, his serpentine tongue sliding through his lips. “Where did you take them, Pennywissse?”

No, of course he knew they were not dead. These children were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, as proven by the neatly wrapped up Mr. and Mrs. Wensleydale, the mister in his favorite armchair, the missus frozen to the spot in the kitchen. A single red balloon tied to the one of the dining chairs rotated to face him. Crowley tore it from its mooring. Its mocking face proclaimed “I <3 Derry” before it popped in his face.

Crowley jumped, letting the horrid thing go, and noticed that caramel popcorn lay at his feet, covering his shoes.

The Glamour took his glasses off, letting his eyes glow as he concentrated. Pennywise had been here, and he had mesmerized the children with the Deadlights. Pepper and Warlock fought back. Crowley smiled. No, they had been taken, and Crowley knew exactly where.

There was no time to reminisce about bygone eras. 

This...was war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from "This is War" by 30 Seconds to Mars.
> 
> *coughs* Crowley can shapeshift into the Bentley.
> 
> Why?
> 
> Still haven't figured that one out yet. Guess one of his previous victims just was really terrified of cars...?


	10. Do What It Wants

Henry Bowers had not expected to find a sense of peace in juvenile detention, but he had access to therapy and schooling and other kids just like him. Some had even come from terrifying pasts, just as he had. However, the one thing that could never redeem him, in the eyes of the state of Maine and in the eyes of the other inmates, was that Henry showed no remorse for his actions. He was able to form a gang of sorts even in prison, and he terrified all of the black and Hispanic inmates, calling them the most awful names he could think of.

As such, he’d been deemed too unstable to return to the outside world. That was fine. He was safe here, inside.He had friends, or, at least people who feared him. He had food and clothes and medical care. And he was away from that clown with the glowing eyes.

That had all changed one dark night, 27 years later. Henry had started to forget everything that happened that summer. It wasn’t until the whispers began that Henry started to remember. It was the voice, the same one on the TV, that had told him to kill the Losers and his father all those years ago. 

Henry thought he was hearing things, and wondered if he’d been given the correct dose of medication. His bed started to rattle and shaker him about, making Henry cling to his pillow in fear. 

“Open your eyes, Henry,” taunted a familiar voice. When Henry did so, he saw two horrifying zombies lying at the foot of his bed. His friends, Victor and Belch, that he’d killed. He didn’t remember killing them. He’d blacked out at that point, completely gone to insanity.

“We’ll get you out, Henry,” Victor slurred, blood dripping from his lips as they split horribly into a rictus grin. 

“I’ve even got your knife, Henry,” Belch, who had intestines leaking from his stomach, held out in a hand missing two fingers a pristine switchblade knife.

“We need to finish the job, Henry,” Victor went on.

“Kill them all!” Belch chanted.

“Kill them all!” Victor chanted.

“Kill them all,” whispered the TV voice in his ear.

Henry took the switchblade from the zombie, and watched as the two figures dissolved before his eyes. He heard loud barking, and a huge cane corso with sharp, pointed teeth and fur as black as night, appeared at the doorway to his room. It was wagging its tail, asking Henry to follow.

Henry got out of bed, stumbling after the dog in his slippers as it started to run. Henry noticed that the dog’s collar was white with red pom poms hanging off of it that jingled like bells.

“Hey! You there!” It was the night guard, Koontz, who Henry hated. 

The dog lunged. And Koontz screamed in fear as the animal ripped him to shreds. Henry could see the dog’s mouth glowing, and he fled before the dog could set its sights on him. 

He knew that glow. That glow was never good.

As Henry tried to hitch-hike, he mumbled to himself, “If I do what It wants, It’ll go away. If I do what It wants, It’ll go away.” He wasn’t sure he really believed that, but it was as good a comfort as he was going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Henry interlude, originally published 9/11/20 (September 9th, 2020). I decided to add in additional content to fill out the story a bit more. Let me know if you like the addition!


	11. The Iron is Hot

Bev had come out to the smoking porch, knowing no one would be there. Smoking was terribly out of fashion, and she hadn’t even smoked in years, but, well...it was still an unfortunate coping mechanism all these years later. 

That’s why she jumped when she heard her name.

“Bev?”

It was Eddie, who smiled sheepishly when he saw the alarm in her eyes. “Sorry, did I startle you?”

“I thought I’d be alone out here, that’s all,” Bev explained as Eddie joined her by the railing. “Hard to believe we’re the only ones rattled about this whole thing.” She drew a long drag on her cigarette and held the smoke in her lungs, the heat of it burning in her throat, before she let the smoke curl from her lips and out into the night air. “I tried sleeping, but…”

Eddie hunched over the railing, deep brown eyes staring down into the parking lot below. “Richie couldn’t sleep either. Both of us were tossing and turning, worried about Wil-I mean, Warlock. Finally, I told Richie that one of us had to be well-rested for tomorrow, and I convinced him to take some Zzquil. He was out like a light, and then I was restless with folding Warlock’s things, so.” He shrugged. “I came out here, where it might be quiet.”

“Hm,” Bev examined her cigarette, the brown end of it tinted burgundy from the last of her lipstick. “Ben almost threw up, he was so sick with worry. Adam…” she flexed her fingers, “he’s...vulnerable, in ways other kids aren’t. I shouldn’t have ever let him leave our room.”

“At any other time, he would’ve been safe in London,” Eddie pointed out, resting a clammy hand on her shoulder. It betrayed his own nerves, but at least that meant that Bev’s fears were warranted. “You know that. As kids, we were never afraid.”

“But was that because of him, or because we were kids and didn’t know better?!” Bev snapped. “Fat lot of good his protection’s done us now.”

Despite Aziraphale trying to persuade the group that all was well, Crowley’s sudden exit and then late return, no children with him, told the Losers all they needed to know. The only consolation that Crowley was able to provide was that the children were alive somewhere in Derry’s sewers, probably in Pennywise’s lair, but even that was barely a comfort.

“He was trying his best,” Eddie dropped his hand from Bev’s shoulder. “Even parents make mistakes, you know. That even extends to cosmic entities that are thousands of years old.”

Bev smiled at that despite her worry, and silence reigned on the old balcony for a while. Finally, Eddie spoke again: “Let me have a drag.”

Bev raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, am I talking to the real Eddie Kaspbrak here? The same one who, even at thirteen years old, was telling me that I was gonna get cancer from smoking cigarettes?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Har har. I still think smoking them nonstop will give you cancer. In fact, that’s been proven. But you’re smoking for a reason, and I’m stressed, too. So, hand it over.”

Bev did so, watching in amusement as Eddie took too long a drag and coughed. “Not like that,” she said gently. “Just breathe deeply and hold the smoke in your mouth for a second. There, like that.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t know how to do something that could kill me,” Eddie said wryly, nonetheless continuing to smoke using his new technique.

“Hasn’t killed me yet,” Bev grinned.

An unseasonably cool wind blew through the hotel’s back parking lot, making them both shiver. “Eddie?” Bev asked. “You never told us how you and Richie first kissed. Why? We would’ve supported you.”

Eddie blew out the smoke with a soft cough and handed the cigarette back to Bev. “I know you would’ve. Hell, I know even dad would’ve. Something tells me his gender isn’t as rigid as it is with humans. Some humans, I guess. Er...anyway.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We were...scared of Richie’s parents. And Richie was scared of Henry. After Henry’s cousin called him a fairy in front of the whole arcade, Richie just wanted to make everyone forget before someone told his parents about it. Lord knows my mom woulda thrown a fit and a half if she’d been around.”

Bev nodded. “Lucky thing she wasn’t, then. So,” she leaned forward, mischievous grin on her face, “tell me everything. When did it happen?”

Eddie flushed scarlet. “The barrens,” he mumbled. “We kissed in the Quarry lake. Richie was home sick, but he snuck out, and it was a London holiday, so I snuck out. I really reamed into him for getting out of bed, though, even as I was following him into the water.” He chuckled. “Richie learned that day...kissing always makes me shut up.”

“That’s so romantic. Honestly,” Bev said, when Eddie gave her a funny look. “Ben and I just snuck away underneath the bleachers at a high school football game when we were teens.”

“But, you and Ben kissed…”

“I don’t count that one,” Bev said sharply, relaxing her shoulders after a minute. “It’s like...being Snow White,” she explained. “That’s not the sort of kiss you can tell your children about.”

Eddie was about to say something more when an irritated buzzing sounded from the back pocket of his jeans. “Fuck, that could be Richie,” he mumbled in apology as he scrambled for his phone. “He gets terrible night terrors from Zzquil...Hello? Mike?”

Bev watched as Eddie’s face grew pale. “Fuck. Okay, shit, we’ll be right there. Yeah, I’ll tell them, you just make sure he gets there safe. Okay. Bye.”

“What?” Bev asked, and then repeated demandingly, “What?!”

“It’s Stan,” Eddie explained, trembling. “He’s been stabbed.”

“What?!” Bev stomped out her cigarette. “By who?!”

“Bowers,” Eddie explained. “Somehow, he got out of...wherever he was sent to after that summer, and he went after Stan. Fuck.” He pushed his way clumsily back into the hall, heading towards the rooms on the right. “Mike told me Bill tried to call you, but then moved on to Georgie and Katie when you wouldn’t answer.” He pulled out his passkey. “I’ll drive. Our sedan’s big enough for four. Get Ben, I’ll get Richie, and I’ll pick you guys up in the back lot a floor below the smoking pavilion.”

Bev nodded. “Right. See you soon.” She discarded her cigarette in the nearest trashcan and then procured her own passkey. She could only hope they weren’t too late.

~

“Bowers got out,” Crowley growled, wearing grooves in the concrete as he paced. “Fuck! I thought my wards would hold...I guess in the years that passed…”

“You were responsible for sending that boy to an asylum?” Aziraphale asked. “Why not prison?”

The two supernatural beings were outside of the Derry hospital, waiting to hear about Stan’s condition. Aziraphale was handling the whole situation far better than he ought to, Crowley thought. Or maybe his anxiety was just already high from the day he’d had. After all, it’s not every day you learn that the nemesis you fought 27 years ago is back with a vengeance and has kidnapped five innocent children in the process. At least Pennywise had no intention of eating them; he’d made that much clear with the whole webbing fiasco.

The serpent turned to Aziraphale, golden eyes exposed, the yellow in the iris spreading into the sclera, slit pupils wide and limitless. He was leaking so much fear that even reality around him seemed to tremble. It was like a glowing beacon. Aziraphale needed to get him to cut that out. “He wasss just a kid,” Crowley replied, hiding his eyes and concealing some of the energy. “Even if he wasn’t a very nice kid, and even if he did kill his father...like I said at the time, Pennywise had taken control of him by picking at the edges of his sanity. Henry was a pawn, in the end. I couldn’t let him go to juvie.”

“At least his suffering is over now,” Aziraphale murmured. “I can’t say I agree with all of his viewpoints...but I still wish his soul peace.” He turned and looked back towards the third floor of the hospital, knowing by instinct which wing and room held Stanley. He was going to be all right; the angelic being had made sure of it.

“Augh!” Crowley cried out in anguish, falling to his knees and cradling his stomach.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale rushed over and knelt at the Glamour’s side, his hand stroking against his spine soothingly, despite the fact that the sheer energy from the creature’s glowing, hungry core was burning him. “Oh dear...I knew this wasn’t the best place for you.” He’d been acutely aware, perhaps even more than Crowley, about how hungry the Glamour was, and how much the hospital’s very aura of fear and suffering would affect his friend, but despite his protests, Crowley insisted that he come. In fact, it was he who “drove” Georgie and Katie there.

“It isn’t weird,” he’d snapped at Aziraphale defensively, though the angel had said nothing. “The way I designed that form, they’re riding on my back, not my tongue!”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said gently, “this isn’t the best place for you...it’s only tempting you further, making you more desperate. Please, don’t torture yourself.” 

“‘M fine,” Crowley ground out through gritted teeth, “jussst need to get back under control.” After a few tense moments, his light ceased radiating from his skin, but the sharp chill it left behind was not any lore comforting. “There.” Crowley sat back, smiling. “Easy.” But the way that his eyes were glowing suggested otherwise. 

Aziraphale guessed that Crowley’s hunger was easier to ignore if he didn’t think about it. Surely, he wasn’t in as dire straits as he had been that summer 27 years ago, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t suffering at all. And being around a veritable buffet of fear wasn’t exactly good for him. 

“Please rest, Crowley,” Aziraphale encouraged gently. “Stanley is going to be fine. I made sure of it. In fact,” he bit his lip, “I...confess it is my fault that he ended up this way.” 

“What?” Crowley turned to him, brow furrowed. “Why did you do that?” 

“Bowers was already on his way here, the brute,” Aziraphale began. “I could sense it. And I knew that Stanley even being here was a very near thing. I’m sure you can smell his fear better than I, dear.” Crowley nodded slowly. “Exactly. So I, er...simply suggested to Bowers that Stanley would be a better target.” 

“Oh,” Crowley said, “you got him out of the final fight against Pennywise.” He smiled. “Clever angel. Even though I still don’t exactly agree.” He sighed, pulling himself to his feet. “Sorry about all that,” he said sheepishly, uselessly dusting off his clothes, as if they would dare to get dirty. “I’m under control, and I’m really not as hungry as all that, I promise.” 

“I understand,” Aziraphale said, who had stood as well and had offered his arm to Crowley to give the creature somewhere to lean while he sorted himself, which Crowley had taken full advantage of. “It’s rather like...walking past a restaurant when it’s been a few hours since breakfast.” 

“Yeah,” Crowley reached up to tie his hair up in a bun. “Stress doesn’t help it either, really.” 

Aziraphale chuckled. “I’d imagine not.” 

“Dad?” 

Wren and Katie emerged from the hospital, and Katie quickly crossed to her father, embracing him tightly. She was shaking with emotion, and Crowley embraced her in return. “Katie,” he said softly, his tone much changed from the gruff, standoffish one he usually adapted, “are you all right?” 

Katie nodded against his breastbone. “Stanley’s made it. He’s going to be okay.” 

The supernatural beings let out sighs of relief. Even though the news was guaranteed, they still felt elated to have such a thing confirmed. “Good,” Crowley smiled. “I’m glad.” 

“Dad,” Wren said seriously, “the Losers are going after Pennywise.” 

“Tonight?” Aziraphale asked. “Shouldn’t they rest? Wait until morning?” 

“No,” Crowley replied, “they’re right.” He nodded to Wren, and then spoke with the other Losers as they emerged. “We strike while the iron is hot.” 

“Yeah,” Bill said. “I agree. What was it you said, Richie? All those years ago?”

Richie grinned. “Let’s go kill this fucking clown.” 

“Close enough,” Eddie mumbled, making Georgie giggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I know it seems like I'm still treating Katie and Georgie as kid characters, but...technically, they're quite young, and also, as the 27 year old in a friend group of early-mid 20s people, trust me when I say that you do feel old. lol
> 
> Did you think I was dead? No, I was just writing other fics. But I love this series so...here we are lol.


	12. The Web

Eddie led the way through the Barrens to the old sewerworks, long abandoned even before twenty-seven years had passed. Richie was just behind his husband, holding an industrial flashlight Mike had fetched from the library. The rest of the Losers and Campsite Kids bringing up the rear lit the way with the feeble flashlights on their phones, and Bev’s lighter. With their plan about attempting the Ritual of Chud behind them, all they had was their wits and their combined strength.

Georgie had tried to suggest that Katie just go home, due to her being heavily pregnant. But Katie, ever stubborn and never one to run away from a serious situation, staunchly refused. She could move rather well for a person who had but a few weeks before giving birth, and with Georgie and Wren hovering over her (and Crowley, too, though he tended to loom from afar), she was the safest out of all of them.

Bev felt envy strike through her like a knife as she watched Georgie helping his wife over a thick log. The party was silent and serious and she couldn’t help the fact that she was alone with her thoughts now. It wasn’t fair. It shouldn’t matter the age of the person; no one should be an exception to the rules.

“Bev?” Ben fell into step beside his wife. “What’s wrong?”

Bev sneered. “Katie.”

Ben sighed. He understood, but probably not in any of the ways that mattered, and he would never understand the desire to carry a child. “I’m sorry.” But he could take his wife’s hand, now, in the present, and fortify her against the coming danger.

All at once, he was a kid again, his heart burning with protective desire as he trekked forward into the sewers to rescue Bev. Funny how a rescue had united them then, and it did so now. He squeezed Bev’s hand, reassuring himself that she was there. Bev squeezed back.

She didn't remember being taken by Pennywise, but she remembered waking to the kiss. She had looked at Bill with affection briefly, but her eyes had always been for Ben, and that kiss solidified it. She hadn’t been sure anyone could love her, damaged as she was by her father and the environment of hate she grew up in, but that had been enough confirmation for her.

Eddie’s scream from up ahead ruined the ruminations of the group of adults, and they all ran forward to see what was going on. Crowley pushed his way past the throng of humans, past Eddie, who had drawn close to Richie and was trembling badly, taking the flashlight from Mike as he did so. The Glamour shone the light against the entrance of the sewer.

“Oh God,” Mike murmured in quiet horror.

“What the fuck,” Richie whispered into his husband’s hair.

Bill wormed his way around Richie and came to stand by Crowley. Katie’s hand rested on his shoulder, her curls brushing against his back. “What is that?” Bill asked.

“A web,” Ben said.

“A gigantic web,” Bev added.

“It looks like something out of a horror movie,” Jack whispered.

“Don’t look too close,” Wren warned the others. She was a vet. She’d seen some pretty twisted stuff. And this couldn’t compare.

Georgie gasped. “Oh, God, is it…?’

The trees surrounding the entrance of the sewer were bowed forward, creating a sort of ornate decoration, if your definition of “ornate” leaned towards the macabre. Woven through the thick, white webbing that made the lair’s entrance look like the hole of a burrowing spider or, more accurately, as Richie would later recall, like a Halloween pop-up store had vomited all over it, were body parts. Entrails, fingers, toes, chunks of flesh, tiny hands and feet. 

Before Crowley could speak, Aziraphale spoke for him. “It’s a nest.”

“A nest?!” Bill twisted his neck around back into the crowd to look at Aziraphale, and then back to Crowley.

“Glamours make nests?” Jack asked. “Why didn’t you ever make one?”

“He’s a male Glamour, dummy,” Richie said. And then, “Wait.”

“Pennywise is female?” Mike asked, looking towards Aziraphale.

“I can only assume,” Aziraphale said, trying to remain calm, though the way that he was fidgeting with his watch chain suggested otherwise. “I’ve never seen a Glamour nest myself, of course, and they vary by personal preference, but…”

“I’d say this is as much of a “stay away” message as I’ve ever seen,” Crowley said gravely, shining the flashlight down along the ground which was alive with distinctly non-native spider species flooding along the suspended webs. “She’s trying to keep us away from her eggs.”

“Ew, gross.” Eddie complained, having recovered slightly from the shock of the body horror. “I fucking hate spiders.”

“I know. You make me crush them back home.”

“Can we focus, please?” Bev asked in frustration. She locked eyes with Katie, who reached for the flashlight in Crowley’s hand. “What do we do?”

Crowley shook his head. “Press on.” He stretched a hand up to brush along the webbing. It came away under his touch, the strands seeming to burn at the seams. “Very little of this is actually real. Like I said, she’s trying to tell us to get out.” The eyes that were in some scattered places within the mottled web rolled in their sockets to look at Crowley. They all blinked simultaneously, and then looked at the group.

Georgie gulped. “I-I should take Katie back…”

“No,” Katie pulled him forward. “We do it together, or not at all.” She looked at Bill. “For Stan.”

Bill nodded. “For Stan.” He looked around at the others. “We might not have a plan, but we did pretty okay with ourselves without one last time.”

“Only cause I’m good at improv,” Richie bragged. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Come on,” Using his hands, Crowley began to tear at the webbing. “Let’s go.”

But Crowley forgot something that all spider lovers, and anyone who has read a lot of books, should know.

And Mike did know. Even the farthest reaches of a spider’s web can cause vibrations. And a spider can read her web as easily as a blind person can read braille.

Pennywise would know where they were as long as they were in her web.

They might not stand a chance if she found them first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Richie might be wrong about something... ;)
> 
> I've never been pregnant, but I'm aware it's kind of hard to do anything when heavily pregnant. But, y'know, Katie is just full of adrenaline, so, yes, she's absolutely going to take part in this adventure. 
> 
> I'm back! And ready to complete this monster of a story. I still feel like I haven't made this a good enough conclusion to the series. It's not nearly as satisfying as London Bridge, and I'm sorry about that.
> 
> Covid sure bit me in the butt. Oh, but I'm over on Twitch now, if you want to, um...see me do stuff...? twitch.tv/sylviessylk


	13. Here We Are...

“I don’t think I’ll ever look at spiders the same way again after this,” Richie commented, absently pulling his curly hair into a bun to keep it away from the thick webbing dripping from the ceiling like water. 

It was everywhere. The sewers were like a cavern, stalagmites and stalactites draped with sticky webbing covered the floor and ceiling, and ankle-deep water that was cold despite the warm summer air lapped around their feet. Somehow, though, it was less disgusting than the sewer they’d entered all those years before. The water was relatively clean, not murky, and the high ceilings echoed, making the sound of their footsteps rush around them like the sound of the ocean.

“What’s with the webbing, anyway?” Richie went on, seeing as no one else was exactly inclined to speak, and he felt that he needed to fill the silence in some way. “I thought I’d be seein, y’know…” he gestured vaguely, “circus tents, ‘n cotton candy stands ‘n rides in the lair of a clown.”

“All the toys are gone, too,” Bill mused, daring to reach out to touch the walls. His hand came away slightly damp and cool, as he’d touched wet stone. “There used to be thousands of them, tall piles everywhere.”

Aziraphale gave Mike’s brain a nudge in the right direction.

“True forms,” Mike said. “Glamours have true forms.”

“Yeah,” said Jack, “but it’s just the lights inside them.”

“It’s true that we don’t have physical forms like the way most creatures do,” Crowley, who was still leading the way, if only to be on the lookout, replied. “Most of the time, though, the brains of humans sort of...see what they wanna see. And we do have...shape to our forms, that decides our nature.”

Eddie thought of Crowley’s golden eyes and dark, obsidian pupils. “You’re a snake.” 

“Oh,” Bev said, remembering a conversation she once had with Crowley, in her old bedroom, many years ago. “Yeah, of course. You told me, once, that it’s why you hunt the way you do.” 

Crowley turned to give them a half-smile in the dark, his teeth sharp and white in the gloom. “Yes. I’m a snake.” 

“A wadjet, of sorts, actually, I should think,” Aziraphale piped up from the back of the group. “With your wings, it makes sense.” 

Crowley rolled the word around on his tongue for a bit before shrugging. “Sure, yeah, that works.”

“That means…” Ben began, “Pennywise is…”

“A spider,” Mike glanced back at Aziraphale. “Right?”

“As far as I can tell, yes,” Aziraphale replied. “I’m not exactly able to sense true forms unless given permission, but she really wants me to know.”

“She’s under the impression Maturin is dead,” Crowley replied. “I can feel the glee.”

“Maturin?” Mike asked. 

“I’ll explain later,” Aziraphale assured him, “but essentially, Maturin is my boss, just as the first Deadlights are, or were, Crowley’s.”

“But I’ve never seen you follow orders, Mr. Crowley,” Georgie said. 

“Dad’s always played by his own rules,” Wren explained. 

Katie stopped, then turned. “Hey guys? Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Bill asked. 

“I...dunno how to describe it,” Katie frowned, scrunching up her face. “It sounds an awful lot like scuttling…”

An echoing laugh surrounded the group before, in a flash, Pennywise separated them. 

Aziraphale and Crowley were alone in the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will admit this book is not as good as the last one because I didn't watch enough of IT Chapter 2, so I'm sort of making stuff up as I go along. However, we are reaching the part of this book that I've thought about the most, so I hope that makes up for it.
> 
> Is the pandemic going okay for everyone? I'm out of work, so I've been focusing on my twitch channel, mostly. I've been thinking I might stream writing fanfic...lol


	14. Unlucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! That chapter includes mention of the "f" word that rhymes with "maggot" used as a slur against gay people! If you are sensitive to this topic, you may want to skip this chapter, or proceed with extreme caution!

“What was that all about?” Aziraphale asked crossly, spreading his wings out to try and touch the humans that had been in front of him just seconds ago. He looked over at Crowley, who was scenting the air with his tongue. His glasses made him look so emotionless, but Aziraphale could tell he was terrified. 

“She bent reality,” Crowley explained. “She can do that, separate them all. As long as they believe they’re alone, then they are.” He removed his glasses, serpentine eyes fully gold and bright in the dim light. “I don’t know how to get them back. They’re on their own.”

~

Katie was falling. These were her worst nightmares. 

It was too long ago, and too far off in her memories before London, the other horrors in her life that she’d seen. The things her father had done to her mother. Wren had never told her explicitly, only that her father was a bad man. So no, he was not what she feared. That wasn’t what she remembered. 

What she did remember was falling. 

It was one summer day, warm and bright, and she was surrounded by her siblings, her aunt, and her friends. There was a cliff face, where the older children would dive into the water. Katie never liked heights, but she wasn’t scared when the others were with her. 

She and Georgie were playing tag, and she hadn’t been looking where she was going… Suddenly, her foot wasn’t touching solid ground and she was tumbling, tumbling…

It was the first time in her life that she’d felt truly afraid.

And then a pair of long arms snatched her, and she was looking into the relieved, kind, golden eyes of her father. Like a hawk before it reaches water, Crowley had flapped his wings, bringing them up into the air. Katie, still trembling from fear, could not even enjoy being held. She clutched onto his jacket and didn’t let go until they were on solid ground again. There was a roaring in her ears as the children swirled around them, a cacophony of noise. She’d had enough. 

“She’s all right,” her father had said, then, his voice calm and warm. “Let’s call it a day, then, yeah? Come on, I’ll buy you lot ice cream.”

She was aware, somehow, that this fall was something Crowley couldn’t rescue her from. 

Katie wasn’t screaming. She hadn’t even screamed the first time she fell. She was quiet in her terror, her thoughts racing as she imagined what sort of jagged rocks or terrifying animals might lay at the bottom of this cavern. She began to have graphic visions of landing on her belly, of it exploding on impact, leaving a river of blood and carnage everywhere. All of these things seemed to run through her head, making her unable to focus. 

And underneath it all was the strange, carnie voice of the creature known as Pennywise the Dancing Clown. She could hear it under the roaring in her ears, above the pounding of her heart. He...she...it, whatever, was laughing at her, and she got a vision of herself as a much younger child, standing defiant before the creature, declaring that she was not afraid. 

“Finally,” the voice, sounding much more deranged, somehow, cackled in her ear, “finally, I’ve found something you fear! Ooh, you will be so delicious for me, with that unborn human lying in your stomach!”

The baby turned inside her in a sickening way, and suddenly, Katie was afraid not for herself, but for her child. She clutched her belly, turning to the darkness, towards where she thought the voice was coming from, and snarled. “Don’t you dare touch her!” She yelled, her dark eyes full of fire, her voice full of power. “Leave my baby alone!” She made to step forward, believing there was solid ground, and then, there was. She was in the dark, standing under a bright, circular light. There was a rustling sound, a scuttling, like she’d heard before she started falling. 

And then, nothing. Pennywise was gone. At least for now. Katie reached out one hand, keeping the other pressed on her belly protectively, where she could feel her daughter restlessly shifting, nervous inside of her. “Shh,” she soothed, rubbing her thumb against where she thought the baby’s head might be. “Shh, it’s okay, baby girl. I’ve got you. We’re safe now.” She kept rescuing with the other, and then, it was if she was touching something solid and wooden. A door! Her hand scrambled for the knob…

It was surprisingly bright now, and she squinted. 

“Katie?” 

Katie rubbed her eyes, seeing her dad standing mere inches from her, looking relieved in that same way he had when he’d rescued her all those years before. 

“Dad.” She said it like a prayer, like a breath, like “I love you,” “I missed you,” “I need you,” wrapped all into one. She jogged to get to him, then wrapped her arms around him, trembling with adrenaline and relief. 

Just like he had all those years ago, Crowley wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. 

“You’re back,” Crowley breathed, reverent. “I knew you’d be first.” He smiled, kissing her forehead. “You’d figure it out.” 

“What?” Aziraphale asked. “Figure what out?”

“The trick,” Crowley said, and oh, she could feel his voice from here. It reminded her of being a child, riding in his arms, feeling his power washing over her, warm and calm, like a hug surrounding her always. She was loathe to step away, but she did, still staying by his side, though. “Pennywise trapped them in their heads. She took them to the place they feared the most.”

“We can’t help them, can we, dad?”

Crowley shook his head. “No. But they can help each other. And now that you’re out, they have an energy to reach for.”

“So, we wait,” Aziraphale said. 

“We wait.”

The angel fiddled with his hands, then looked up. “What did you say about a nest, dear boy?”

~

“Faggot!”

All at once, Richie was a kid again, surrounded on all sides by arcade game cabinets and a wall of children’s faces.

“FAGGOT!”

And that was the voice that hurt the most, the face in the crowd he was most afraid of alienating. The others didn’t matter, not even his first crush, the first boy he lusted after beneath the blankets of his bed at home, in the dark, when his parents were asleep.

The boy he loved, the only boy he had ever loved, was Eddie Kaspbrack. And now Eddie was there, the most prominent face in the crowd.

“How could I ever love you, Richie Tozier?” Eddie taunted. “Trashmouth? More like trash mind!” And he laughed, but it was cruel and twisted and he had far too many teeth.

“Trash mind! Trash mind! You’re nothing but a trash mind!” The kids around him chanted. The wall of them was pressing inward until Richie felt claustrophobic. He got down onto his knees, slapping his palms over his ears as he tried to drown it out.

“Trash mind! Trash mind! He’s nothing but a trash mind!”

“Trash on his mind,” Eddie’s voice again, but it sounded strange and hysterical. “How could I ever love you?”

Richie cried.

~

Eddie hated hospitals.

In recent years, his hypochondria had slowly waned, though when they’d first gotten Warlock as a baby, it had come back with a vengeance. Though, just because he was more worried about Warlock and Richie than he was about himself, it didn’t mean that, when his anxiety got the better of him, he didn’t treat every little scrape like it was the end of the world.

And he still fucking hated hospitals.

The starched walls, the white clothes of the doctors and nurses, all of the beeping machines and sharp needles and tubing...it reminded him of his mother.

“Edd-ie,” came a sing-song voice. “Eddie, come back...Eddie…”

Eddie didn’t want to turn around, but this was a nightmare. And in nightmares, you always o what you know you shouldn’t.

The decayed body of his mother stood before him, her skin red and faded away from her bones (half-digested, Eddie’s brain supplied, and he gagged).

“Edd-ie,” his mother sang, changing into a voice he thought he knew, but he couldn’t quite remember… “You left me as snake food!”

Eddie screamed and ran.

~

Bev had dreaded her first period. When blood appeared in the school toilet, she, naturally, panicked, and went to the nurse. That was when she had been informed that this was her “mark of womanhood.” 

She didn’t want to be a woman. Her father would see her differently, then. 

Not Crowley, no. Crowley was kind and patient and loving. Alvin Marsh was abusive and disgusting. He had touched her in ways she never wished to be touched again and, though she loved Ben very much, there were times that, when he touched her, she recoiled. He loved her too much to take that as an offense, and they spent hours talking about her trauma and what he could do to help. 

But Ben wasn’t there. 

She was a full grown adult, but back in the bathroom stall. Blood was spilling out of the toilet, pooling at her feet. And she could hear Alvin’s voice through the door...though it had a strange lilt to it. “Bevvie…” it crooned. “Beeevvviiieeee…”

The plastic door began to rattle, and Bev shrieked, shoving her body against it to force it closed. 

“Bevviieee,” the voice taunted. “Are you still my little girl?”

~

Eddie kept running, pushing his way through the different hospital doors as the walls seemed to close around him, the lumbering beast not too far behind. Somewhere in his subconscious, something was nagging at him. He pushed his way into the next room and stopped.

“Wait,” he said to himself, “something’s not right here.”

As he looked around, the hospital walls seemed to fade away, replaced by old wooden walls with a refrigerator on one side. He remembered this room, could see it in his mind’s eyes. It was the closest he’d ever been to dying by the clown.

But he didn’t.

“This isn’t real,” he murmured.

A horrible banging against the closed doors behind him startled him, but this time, he fought the hospital surroundings that were trying to return. He needed to find Richie, and fast. 

“Eddiiieee,” crooned the monster. For that was what she was. Even holding the door closed against her bulk, Eddie could look now, and he saw, beneath the folds of Sonia’s chin, a tattered white ruffle collar trimmed with red and tiny little bells.

Pennywise.

“Go away!” Eddie shouted. “I’m not afraid of you!”

There was only laughter and the banging continued, but Eddie realized Pennywise couldn’t break through. Back in the Neibolt house, he looked around for another door. There was only one...and it was the refrigerator’s.

Taking a deep breath, Eddie grabbed the handle. “Take me to Richie,” he said, and opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE 9/11/2020!!!!
> 
> As discussed in the Discord, I'm changing the structure of these chapters. The fear pockets were even starting to bore me, and I think it's a case of too much information. I will leave Bev, Ben, Richie, and Eddie's pockets (and Katie's, too), as they are character development, and interesting to boot. (I hope so, anyway.) The other fears will be revealed later on, don't worry. I've been devising ways to integrate every single fear I can.
> 
> ...am I turning into Pennywise...? Or am I more of a Crowley? Hmm...


	15. Reunited

Richie felt like he was drowning in the voices, and in his own tears. The saltwater poured past his lips, the air choked him as he pressed his forehead into the ratty carpet, the swirls of its colors making him dizzy. All of the voices surrounding him had blended into laughter, mocking him.

“Richie!”

That one was so distinct. So real. Richie lifted his head off the floor, smearing his curls out of his eyes. “Eddie?” The crowd of children around him now looked dead, slowly decaying, but still, they laughed and taunted.

The glass door of the arcade opened, and Eddie was there. The corpse children began oozing puss and growing mold, but Richie watched in awe as Eddie parted them with ease, as if he was sifting through paper. As he sat back on his haunches, speechless, he realized that he had never been more in love with Eddie than in that moment. Except maybe at their wedding, but this was a close second. 

“Eddie,” he breathed, voice hoarse, as his husband finally parted the crowd, taking his hand and pulling him into an embrace. “Eddie.” He wrapped his arms around his love, burying his face into his shoulder as he wept, openly and without conscious thought, trembling as Eddie held him tighter, murmuring soft platitudes into his ear and running a strong, bony hand through his hair.

“C’mon,” Eddie said, smiling brightly. “Let’s get out of this nightmare.”

The crowd had gone. It was only an empty arcade now. Richie smiled at the old Street Fighter machine, now covered in cobwebs, and squeezed Eddie’s hand in affirmation.

As they rejoined the group, Richie started to laugh hysterically, turning to Eddie. “Hey, question. Why don’t you ever save our family from grime when it’s your turn to clean the bathroom?”

Eddie groaned, swatting at him. “Shut up, Richie!”

~

Ben was being buried alive.

He had never liked small, tight spaces. Probably because he’d been shoved in far too many lockers by Henry Bowers and his ilk, but that was besides the point. He realized that, even though he could hear a shovel from up above digging, and dirt was flying down into his hair, onto his shirt, and settling around his feet, what was actually burying him were tons of magazines, cooking directions, boxes of protein bars.

He wasn’t being buried alive by dirt, but by the diets. “14 days to slim!” The red words stood out to him while below, a muscular man flexed. “Lose the gut fast!” A product declared, flashing before his eyes with crystal clear clarity. And in his ears, he heard all the ads blending together. 

“It’s only five points, I felt so much happier with Weight Watchers!”

“Eat right, not less, with Atkins!”

“Go vegan, lose weight!”

“Balanced diet! Portion sizes!”

The weight of not being enough was crushing to him. Bev was beautiful and slim, though, she had told him, not by her own choice. That didn’t make it any better, to hear she didn’t have to try to fit a model’s measurements, even if she was a private model, who rarely did commercial shoots. 

No wonder being an influencer suited her. People loved her, how beautiful, how sexy she was. What on Earth was Bev doing with someone like him? Someone who had failed to be skinny. 

“That’s right, fat boy,” hissed the haunting, carnie voice, “that’s all you’ll ever be, to all of them. The butt of every single fat joke, the one whose body they don’t want to emulate, the one who can’t even get a doctor to look past the numbers on the scale!” Laughter echoed all around him.

You’re right, Ben thought. It had to end. Bev was better off without him.

Just then, above the weight of his own failure, Ben could hear something.

“Ben! BEN!”

That...that sounded like…

“Beverly.” Ben started pushing his way up, his hands digging through the boxes and tearing through the magazines, spitting the protein bars out of his mouth, crawling through protein shakes trying to drown him. “Bev!” He called out.

“Ben!”

He could hear her through the walls around him, which were warping into a gym. He could see the equipment lying broken on the floor. Frantically, he looked through the glass, but he couldn’t see. “Bev! Where are you?”

~

Beverly could hear Ben beyond the door. The blood’s level was rising...she almost couldn’t get enough air. “BEN!” She screamed. “Ben! Help me!”

“I’m right here,” she heard through the door. “Bev, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

That wasn’t fake. That was real. That was the tone he used with her when he helped her through a panic attack. She heard the door rattling, but she wasn’t afraid anymore.

Bev took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface. Her eyes were closed against the flood, but she could feel the simple lock on the stall door. It was fighting her, but she was fighting back now.

The stall door opened in a rush, and a wave of blood carried her straight into Ben’s arms. Ben’s strong, dependable arms, his soft, comforting frame.

“Bev. Bev, thank God.”

Beverly couldn’t help it. She started to cry. Ben held her tightly, shushing her until the blood began to recede. Once she got her bearings, she noticed something floating in the water. 

A Weight Watchers ad.

“Oh, Ben,” she said softly, her heart aching when he turned away.

“I...I thought…” Ben sighed. “You...you’re so beautiful...how could you want me?”

“Ben,” Bev cupped his cheek in her palm. “I love you. I don’t care what your body looks like. I never did.”

“Not even when you saw that could have something better?” Ben frowned.

“What?” Bev scoffed. “Bill? I’ll admit, he’s got nice eyes.” Ben smiled faintly. “But, he’s a scrawny little scarecrow.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I want your big, strong, cuddly, fat body. Nobody else’s.”

Ben hugged her back, shedding a few tears of his own.

“Get a room, lovebirds!” Richie called. And then, “Ow!”

“You’re one to talk, Richie Tozier,” Bill teased. 

“Yeah! We saw you hanging off Eddie.” Jack snorted.

“Give it a rest, you two,” Mike said calmly.

Ben and Bev looked up, realizing they were no longer wet, back in the cave with their friends around them. Katie was smiling with glimmering eyes. And then, they all united in a hug.

“Gross human thing,” Crowley mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love them,” Aziraphale chuckled.

“Ugh,” Crowley replied, making a face. “Love. Glamorous don’t love. We hate love.”

“Not you,” Aziraphale pointed out.

Crowley groaned. “At least let me try to look cool.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAANNNDD IT FEEELS SO GOOD!!!! 
> 
> It also feels good to be finally, FINALLY updating this!
> 
> What do you think? Comments, kudos, questions, and etc. truly make my day!
> 
> If you wanna support me further, please go check out my Twitch! During the month of October, I'll be hosting a Quarantine Halloween special, so please drop by! twitch.tv/sylviessylk
> 
> Speaking of spooky season...welcome back to Derry! ;)


	16. Water's Rising

Crowley didn’t like this. Not one bit.

A miasma of fear still radiated from most of the members of the little human group, two groups of very different children united by a very similar experience. He wasn’t hungry enough to starve to death, no, but, somehow, being so hungry almost made him feel numb. Having experienced both types of hunger throughout his long lifespan, he greatly preferred the numb, relentless hunger. This hunger was much worse because he wanted to hunt, to eat, to fill the aching hole in his stomach. He was used to being full, now. He wanted to be full again. And that meant that fear was enticing.

He was irritable, but keeping that to himself as much as possible, since his misery would only feed into the miasma. He could think about food later, so he told himself. But, even if you’re at a buffet where you can’t eat anything, you’re still going to think about food.

The cave was descending into something more akin to sewers. Water that had been shallow was now rising up to their ankles, their calves, their knees. The water was cold and smelled stale. Crowley’s cold-blooded nature despised the biting chill, and he began to shiver, trying to keep warm. It was so cold, he was beginning to lose focus, everything going fuzzy around the edges. Only Aziraphale’s strong, warm hand gripping his bicep kept him focused. Aziraphale’s presence was welcome here, needed here. If only he could do something about the fear…

The quiet that had fallen over the humans was broken by a scream.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked immediately, looking towards his sister.

Wren was hugging herself, making her broad-shouldered body as small as possible. “Thought I felt somethin press up against my leg.”

Georgie jumped as well. “Shit!”

“What is it?” Bill asked.

“Someone needs to grab it!” Mike yelled.

“Are you crazy?!” Eddie screamed. “Who knows what could be down there?!”

The fear was rising to a cacophony, and Crowley had to clamp his hands over his mouth and close his eyes to keep his deadlights from blinding the room. But his hangs nonetheless began to dig into his palms, making them bleed. 

Katie reached down into the water, feeling at the objects that seemed to swirl around the group. To her, it felt like slimy, cold gelatin, but when she lifted it above water, she could see a faint glow within. “They’re eggs,” she said.

“Eggs?” Bev asked, sloshing her way over towards Katie. The others followed. 

“Yeah,” Katie said. “I mean, they look kind of like sea creature eggs, but…”

“They are eggs,” Bill said quietly. 

“Shit,” Richie breathed. 

“But what’re eggs doing down here?” Mike asked. 

“Crowley,” Ben addressed the other Glamour, which made the slender, man-shaped being straighten to attention, though his eyes were still faintly glowing in the gloom, “you said Pennywise was female. Could she be guarding something?”

Before Crowley could answer, Georgie thought of Katie and said, “Oh. Like, you mean…”

“Eggs,” Katie nodded. “Pennywise has children.” 

“I don’t even want to know how Glamour sex works,” Eddie made a face. 

“All sex is quite grotesque,” Aziraphale said thoughtfully, “once you put your mind to what it is, exactly.” 

The Losers and the Campsite Kids all looked at each other in confusion. Wren, who had never had sex and never wanted to, either, wrinkled her nose. “Animal sex, especially. Spiders often eat their mates.” 

“Let’s… refocus,” Bill suggested. “She’s already laid her eggs, obviously.” 

“Yeah, look,” Georgie held one up. It pulsed in his hand. “It’s got a glow inside it.” 

“Baby Glamours,” Mike said, his face pinched as he began to realize the consequences of his inaction. “They were below Derry all this time, and I never…”

“I should think it’s too late for “what if”s,” Aziraphale pointed out. 

“Right,” Mike scrubbed a hand over his face. 

“I bet we can kill them,” Bev said, squirming as another egg passed her leg. 

“That’s a good idea,” Bill said, turning to the group. “Mike, Ben, you should stay and crush as many of the eggs as you can.” 

“What if we can’t get them all?” Ben asked. 

“They’ll die,” Katie nodded to herself, as if she knew it for a fact. “They’ll die with her.”

“D’ya think that true, Mr. Crowley?” Georgie asked, turning to the Glamour, who had been rather quiet since they found the eggs. 

Crowley sighed. “That’s...usually how it works. Kill the mother, kill the children.” 

“We’ll stomp as many as we can,” Mike clapped a hand on Bill’s shoulder, jaw set in determination. “If what Crowley says is true…”

“It is,” Katie interrupted. Georgie clasped her hand in his, a misguided attempt to quiet her. 

Mike nodded at Katie and turned back to Bill, “we’ll get ‘im,” he said. 

“You go on ahead,” Ben encouraged the others. “Mike ‘n I’ve got this!”

Bev embraced her husband. “Thank you,” she murmured into his shoulder. “You’re so brave.”

Ben hugged her back. “I’m just doin’ my best, Bev.” 

A twisted carnival tune lilted through the cavern, seeming to bounce off the metal pipes without echoing. The group looked up and around, following the way the tune seemed to crawl around the walls to settle around them. It was a grim reminder that they were not alone, and that for all they knew, they were being watched. 

“C-c’mon,” Bill said hesitantly, a whisper of his old stutter creeping back into his speech for the first time in 27 years, “let’s g-go.”

“Be safe,” Bev ordered, as she stepped away from her husband’s embrace. “Both of you.”

“We will,” Ben promised, smiling reassuringly. 

“Call me if you need any help,” Jack boasted. “I’ll squish a thousand spider eggs!”

“There may well be that many,” Wren said grimly. 

“Guess we’d better start, then.” Mike’s voice was just as grim. 

Bill turned and led the group away. Bev kept looking back for as long as she could, until Katie finally took her hand. The darkness of the tunnels up ahead seemed to swallow them, so Mike and Ben were alone in the cold, knee-deep water, surrounded on all sides by eggs. 

With nothing else to do, the two men looked at each other and then around themselves. “Well,” Mike sighed. “Let’s get started, then.”

~

It seemed like they were going to be okay. Or, at least, as okay as they were going to be in the lair of an ancient, violent Glamour who was setting a trap for them. 

Katie doubled over in pain, leaning against Bev, who was walking beside her. “Katie!” Bev cried, and suddenly, Georgie and Crowley were on high alert, pushing through the crowd of humans to get to her. Crowley reluctantly deferred to Georgie, who helped Katie back upright.

“What’s wrong?” Georgie asked nervously. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Katie reassured him, touching his cheek with her palm. “Georgie, I’m fine. The baby is just kicking me in my kidneys, is all.”

Crowley doubted that, but he kept his mouth shut, because Katie wouldn’t have wanted him to tell everyone the truth. However, he knew the unborn child was also afraid. And yes, while most humans were of a decent enough sort to know a baby isn’t human until it leaves its mother’s womb, because Katie wanted this baby, thus believing it was her baby, it became more of a person down here. A person who could sense fear, just like any of them.

“I don’t like this,” Georgie said, “what if I can’t protect you?”

“I can look after myself, love,” Katie replied, smiling.

“Not right now, you can’t!” Georgie yelled, stalking away from her. Bev held up Katie in his stead, the rest shocked at the normally shy Georgie Denbrough’s outburst. “You’re delicate, yet you insist on doing these reckless things, all because of him!” The young man pointed accusingly at Crowley who, for his part, averted his eyes guiltily. “You should be home, safe and sound! You should be thinking about our daughter!”

Katie’s eyes began to fill with tears. “Georgie...stop…”

“No! I’ve let you have enough time here!” Georgie turned towards Crowley, stalking towards him. “Magic her home. Now. Go on. I know you can do it.”

Crowley looked helplessly between Georgie, who had more fire in his eyes than he had ever seen and was practically sweating fear, and Katie, who was silently pleading with him not to give in. “I...I can’t, I…”

“You know this is no place for her!” Georgie screamed, face red in anger. “You’re her father, aren’t you?! Then act like it for once in your stupidly long life!”

“That’s enough, Georgie,” Bill stepped forward, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Georgie...I know how you feel…”

“No you don’t!” Georgie snapped. “It’s not the same!”

“Yes it is,” Bill replied, forcefully turning Georgie around to make him meet his eyes. “Georgie...of course it’s the same. You don’t think I was afraid for you, every time you came in contact with the clown? The time you acted as bait? You don’t think I was scared to death when Pennywise had you in his claws?!” Tears were in his eyes now, too, and Georgie finally relaxed. “But I had to let you help, Georgie. You wanted to. I couldn’t keep you from that. I don’t think Crowley ever wanted Katie in harm’s way, either. Did you?” He turned to Crowley.

The Glamour nodded. “Of course not. No father, no parent, wants that. But I had to.”

“And Katie ended up helping us,” Bill pointed out. “All of us. You, too.” He turned to smile at Katie, who smiled back. “We’re in this together. And we’ve come too far to turn back now.”

Georgie hugged his brother tightly, shaking. “‘M sorry, Billy…”

“I know,” Bill hugged him back, just as tight. “But it’s not me you need to apologize to.”

Georgie left his brother’s embrace and approached his wife. “I’m sorry, Katie. I didn’t mean…”

“I forgive you,” Katie replied, smiling at her husband. “Dad does, too.”

“Oh, right,” Georgie smiled sheepishly at Crowley. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Crowley replied, waving a hand dismissively. “I’d have done the same thing.”

“Mushy stuff over,” Richie groaned, “can we get back to the issue at hand? Or did you all forget there’s a clown to fight?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Richie…beep beep.”

“No, he’s right,” Bill said. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

Katie took Georgie’s hand, and the two walked side by side, united in combatted fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I've been gone...a worryingly long time. I'll admit, for most of September, I wasn't even sure I could finish this book. And then, in October, fate slapped me across the face and said, "Yes you can." 
> 
> I've had a very rough October. I lost money to a scam, a gift I bought ended up not working out, and I'm haunted by thoughts of failure and defeat. Not to mention, I'm not feeling the spirit of the month as strongly as I would normally. So...it's gonna be a tough time.
> 
> On the upside, though, I want to update this more frequently until it's finished, and sprinkle in updates to "London Drabbles" in between, which will focus on Crowley's history in the town of London. 
> 
> Now, about the story: Listen, I realize that I was being very pro-life about Katie's baby, but I want to make this very clear: Katie's baby is a wanted baby. It wasn't a nonconsensual pregnancy, and she wasn't being forced into motherhood. It's something she wanted, badly. So her belief that her baby is, indeed, a person stems from this, not from a general pro-life view. Okay? I just wanted to make that clear. Also, we'll find out soon why Katie is the exception to the rule, and why Richie was wrong about Crowley. Hmmm...
> 
> If you want to support me in the interim, Twitch is currently my only job right now, as the pandemic has made job searching almost impossible. Please consider supporting me there if you can! twitch.tv/sylviessylk
> 
> I love you all. <3


	17. Liar

Mike was up to his knees, waiting through water that seemed to push back against his progress, like a strong current. His pants were soaked, and he hadn’t felt so dirty since he was a child. Around him, the ghostly white eggs floated like jellyfish, bumping into him and occasionally startling him. 

“It’s like we’ll never squish the last one,” Ben said, wiping his face. The voice of his friend brought Mike back, but only barely. “Spiders can lay, what? Hundreds? Thousands? How many have we squished?”

“It’s all my fault,” Mike said gravely. 

“What?” Ben stepped up beside him. “What is, Mike?” 

“This,” Mike gestured helplessly. “All of this. I stayed in Derry. I wanted to keep an eye on it. I wanted to make sure she couldn’t hurt anyone else. And yet, I stood by while those children…” Sobs broke through from his chest, and Ben embraced him without hesitation. 

“It’s not your fault,” Ben comforted, patting him on the back. “We didn’t know that we had really killed it. We didn’t know she’d lay eggs...it isn’t your fault, Mike.”

“Then is it Crowley's?!” Mike demanded. “ Surely he knew! Why didn't he say anything?!”

“ Because he forgot,” Ben said. “ Just like we all did. We forgot about everything. That's her power.”

Mike pulled back, wiping at his eyes like a tired toddler. “ I didn't.” He murmured. “ I had to beare it all, alone.”

“ I'm sorry,” Ben smiled sadly. “ I can't change what happened in the past, but I can change the future.” He squeezed Mike’s shoulder. “We'll face this threat together from now on.”

Mike smiled, drinking away his tears. “ Right. Together."

"Now, are you going to help me stomp these eggs, or what?" Ben asked.

Mike laughed. He didn't feel so alone anymore.

And from somewhere inside her massive web, Pennywise shivered in fear.

~

The rest of the group passed through a massive curtain of sticky webbing that smelled like cotton candy. Richie complained that it was getting tangled in his hair and lamented that he might have to get it cut. Wren and Katie felt similarly about their afros, though Katie said cheerfully that they could all be bald together in solidarity. Crowley snapped his hair away temporarily and for a moment, they could all laugh.

But the atmosphere seemed to shift as they drew ever closer to Pennywise's lair.

It was like seeing the floating bodies and the Mounds of discarded toys all those years ago. There was something otherworldly and evil about it.

Aziraphale gripped Crowley's arm. "I don't like this place. The aura... it's not quite spooky, but…”

"I like spooky," Crowley replied, a strained smile spreading across his face, trying for levity. "Big spooky fan, me."

Aziraphale sighed. "I just hope everything will be alright."

"Adam!" Bev cried, rushing forward towards the wall of webbing on the far left.

“Wait!" Wren called, grabbing her arm just in time to keep her from touching the wall. "It could be a trap." 

"I think all of this is a trap," Jack said in a rare moment of wisdom. "It started when she took the kids.”

"Well, it's not an illusion, anyway," Crowley said.

The wall was one of four surrounding the center of the lair, which looked like a tarantula burrow, a cave-like half circle formed out of debris and wedding. A thin layer of web covered the paved flooring, and assorted bones and pieces of toys play scattered everywhere.

This wall was different from the others not it held, suspended in its grasp Brian, Wensleydale, Pepper, Adam, Warlock, and Dog, all of whom appeared to be hypnotized just like Bev had been years ago.

"Fuck, Warlock got mixed up in this," Eddie put his head in his hands, shaking. “Fuck, we should’ve never...fuck.”

"Hold on there, pardner,” Richie said, using a cowboy accent to try and get Eddie to laugh. When that failed, he pulled his husband closed. "It'll be all right."

They all stared worthlessly up at the display. Georgie and Katie looked at each other as they linked hands over their daughter's heart.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?"

The haunting voice of Pennywise made the group turn around. And there stood the Clown, still dressed in his same silvery clothes with the ruffled neck piece. He grinned and away all his own, that showed off far more teeth been necessary. "Little brats, all grown up!" He singsonged, bells jingling in the quiet expanse of space as he danced closer. "And complete with Turtle-meat And snake." He sneered at Crowley. “Wouldn't life be easier for you if you had just eaten them last summer?” The Clown tsked noisily.

"Leave him alone!" Katie shouted, stepping forward before Georgie could stop her.

“Ahh,” Pennywise strolled over, still towering over her as her dark eyes burned into his. "Little spunky snakeling, is it?”his eyes found Wrenn and Jack, wandering in their sockets to make simultaneous eye contact with both of them. "Do you know what kind of creature your “dad” really is?" He snorted. “He’s a liar, just like all Glamours.” Pennywise focused on Katie as he said, "Why don't you tell them? Or better yet…” The Clown snapped, and suddenly, Crowley found himself in different clothes.

“Crowley...” Aziraphale stepped back.

Crowley's body was much the same, though his hair was short and curly, a mop on his head. He was dressed as a member of the clergy; black dress shirt, black pants, and a white collar at his throat.

"A liar…?” Bill said quietly. "did he …?”

“Nah, c’mon,” Richie dismissed. “Not Crowley. He wouldn’t!”

Pennywise teleported in front Crowley, hand fisted in the collar. "Tell them!” He snarled.

Crowley made eye contact with Katie. “Glamours borrow the forms that we default to the most. This man, this priest, died of tuberculosis. I... took his face, his body, and copied it. I needed to blend in…” Crowley sighed. "His name... was John Paige.”

Pennywise laughed gleefully, tossing Crowley aside like a rag doll. "Again! Again! I know you've got one more!”

Crowley shifted again. A young Native American Woman with long dark hair that fell into her eyes, dressed in a deer skin dress and fur cloak, sat where the familiar form had fallen away. "my first form," Crowley explained. "It was easier to take a form that matched my core gender, so I did. Her name is Takhi and she was killed by a rival tribe. I saved her daughter and killed the Warriors who had murdered her mother. She was my first, and I learned my purpose then."

A stunned silence settled over the group. Run and Jack were paralyzed, thinking of adults that had lied to them and their past and had hurt them greatly.

"Wait..." Richie began. "Crowley's a girl?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my headcanon, Glamours don't have a set gender, but the "core" they are born with determines their status and abilities. (But that's to be explored later...)
> 
> I'm determined to finish this before Halloween! October has been super rough for me in general, and Christmas coming practically next month isn't going to help much...plus, dysphoria is a real bitch.
> 
> I'm still out of work, so...toss a coin to your local fanfic writer, and see what I've been getting up to outside of writing! 
> 
> https://linktr.ee/sylviessylk


	18. Along Came A Spider

“I don’t think that’s important right now,” Bill pointed out. 

Before them, Pennywise was transforming, but not into any human or human-like shape they’d ever seen before. She was growing in size, her shape changing completely until she didn’t really look like a human at all. 

Before them stood a giant spider. It looked a little like a tarantula, but the legs were longer, spindlier, almost like an orb weaver’s. Those legs belonged to the spiders arachnophobes found most terrifying, the ones that skittered around so fast, it was hard to make out each individual leg. 

The ones that, when squished, thousands of little spiderlings would crawl out. 

The coloration of the spider, though, wasn’t something that could be found in nature. Her body was a bright, brilliant white, like grease paint, and her legs had red and orange stripes going up to the knee. On her abdomen was a stretched, smiling clown mouth with way too many teeth, and down around her mouth, more human teeth formed around her fangs. 

“Great,” Eddie groaned, “just great. A giant fucking spider. I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“How do we beat it?” Bev asked. 

“We can fight it inside its mind.” Bill said. 

“Are you crazy?!” Richie yelled. “How do we fight it inside its mind?!”

“I can help you bridge the gap,” Aziraphale said. “It’s not going to be easy; I need to leave my corporeal form.”

“Speaking of,” Crowley shifted back into his (or, perhaps, was it her?) more familiar form, dusting himself off. “There. That’s better.”

“Dad…” Wren grabbed his arm. “I...I don’t understand…”

Crowley smiled sadly. “You know I’m not human. When society began to change, I found it was easier to be a white man. No one looks twice. No one suspects.” He shrugged. “I think it’s a silly human rule, but there you are.”

Katie embraced him. “You’re still my dad,” she said. “No matter what you look like.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Crowley teased, but returned her embrace. Wren, eventually, joined the hug. 

“All right, enough,” Jack laughed. “You’re my dad, too. Can we get back to beating up the clown-spider?”

Georgie nodded, looking at Bill. “I-I can start tearing down the webbing. We can get the children free.”

“Good idea,” Bill said, grinning with pride. “I’ll lead the charge into her mind.” He nodded to Aziraphale and then to the others. “Who’s with me?”

Richie clasped his shoulder. “I am. Always.” 

“I’ll go too,” Bev stepped forward. “You never know what monsters you might encounter.”

“This might seem strange,” Aziraphale warned as he began to glow while gathering his power, “but in order to battle IT, you need to grab hold of her tongue, and never let go.” 

The three nodded, joining hands.

Eddie kissed his husband. “Be careful in there, okay, Richie?”

“You know me,” Richie smiled, though it was a bit uncertain. “I’m always okay.”

The group watched as Aziraphale transformed. His true form was quite large, and resembled a soft shelled turtle. His long neck and arrow-shaped head spilled out of a thin shell. His body was pure white and his shell looked like the softest carved wood. Two white wings spread out from his back, and many eyes appeared around his forehead. With a staff that resembled a flaming pike, he began making complicated gestures, speaking a language older than time itself that only the Glamours could understand. 

And because they could understand, Pennywise began to resist. “NO!” She screeched, trying to attack Aziraphale, who waved his pike at her to keep her at bay as he continued to chant. The humans below had glowing blue eyes. They were going to another plane. 

Pennywise scuttled awkwardly, rearingher head as she looked from side to side. She could feel the humans piercing the barrier, pulling her into the next plane of existence where they could fight her, and, most terrifying of all, they could win. She needed a target, something to distract them. 

She thought about attacking the Glamour-child, the one her sister favored the most. But although it carried another human inside it, making it sluggish, it was well guarded by the other humans tearing apart her webs. 

It was then that she smelled the fear. She looked back and saw the one called Eddie. He was afraid, afraid for Richie. There was love there, too, which made Pennywise nauseous. But fear. Fear she could work with. 

As she raised one of her legs, she turned it into a poisonous spear. And then, she aimed straight for Richie.

~

There was a flash of golden light and a horrible hissing scream. Pennywise’s poisonous spike had hit home, it seemed, but not on her preferred target. 

Crowley’s serpentine form was long and black. Her hood had a gold symbol on it that was a tattoo in her human corporation; a snake with the infinity symbol inside. Her red underbelly was redder still with blood, great black wings flapping helplessly. 

Pennywise laughed, for the ritual had stopped. Even though she could hear the other two returning from stomping out her eggs, it didn’t matter. She was victorious. 

Finally, she could be queen of Derry again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say except dysphoria is a bitch, and that we’re almost done!! Can you feel the excitement in the air???


	19. In Essence

Crowley was dying.

She could feel the blood oozing out from the wound, could feel the way it drained her strength, could feel her treacherous heart beating frantically, pushing more and more of her blood out and onto the cave floor.

“Dad!” Katie sobbed, rushing to her side. Aziraphale spread his wings, guarding Crowley from further harm. 

Blood dribbled out of Crowley’s mouth as she tried to speak, and Katie held her neck, despite his blood getting all over her dress, staining it. Eddie, shocked to be alive after he was sure jumping in to save his husband would be the end, collapsed on top of Richie, laughing hysterically as Richie held him close.

The spider laughed. She hadn’t gotten her original target, it was true, but she’d put her nasty nemesis out of commission, her sister with the borrowed face and disgusting human feelings. Her front legs flailed in triumph as she screeched with joy.

The Losers and the Campsite Kids regrouped, except for Katie, who was with Crowley, and put their heads together. 

“Whaddo we do?” Richie asked, looking at Bill. “Gettin inside its head won’t work. It’s too strong.”

“But we can make it weak,” Eddie said.

“Right,” Mike nodded. “It has to be what we think it should be, right?”

“I thought it was only what we’re afraid of?” Ben asked.

“It’s afraid of us,” Bill said, a moment of clarity dawning. He looked at Wren and Jack. “Isn’t it? That’s how Glamours work.”

Jack nodded. “The power of belief.”

Wren sighed sadly, glancing behind her at her sister trying to hold Crowley upright. It was a losing battle. The long coils were a huge tangle around Katie’s form, writhing in pain. “Dad always said, back then, that your power could’ve killed him.”

“D’ya think we can kill it?” Bill asked.

Wren and Jack nodded. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Bill grinned. “So...we reduce it to one form.”

“The clown,” Bev grinned. 

“Right,” Ben squeezed Bev’s hand. “We’re not afraid of the clown.”

“Clown!” Richie shouted. 

“Clown!” Eddie echoed.

The Losers and the Campsite Kids turned to Pennywise, shouting as they advanced.

“Clown!”

“Clown!”

“Clown!”

“Clown!”

The Glamour appeared confused, scrambling around on her legs, looking for all the world like there was a cliff with a long fall with jagged rocks at the bottom was at her back instead of the walls of her cave that she could change and manipulate at will. But the lack of fear in the eyes of the humans was weakening her, draining her of power. Is this what her sister felt all the time?

“Clown!”

“Clown!”

“Clown!”

“Clown!”

She had no choice. To save herself, she must reduce her shape and size. But the only form she could grab was the one they demanded of her. Stupid, worthless humams. How dare they destroy her, Her!! The favorite child of Mother Deadlight, devourer of worlds and of children, destroyer of peace and joy! 

Reduced to a scrabbling, pleading, weakened clown the size of a newborn baby.

“Fuck,” Jack lifted his head. “Dad!”

“Oh no,” Wren ran over, too, noticing that Katie was covered in Crowley’s blood.

The Glamour coughed,her giant head rising up to muzzle against Wren as she came close. “My children,” she wheezed. “I...I don’t have much time…”

“No!” Katie sobbed, burying her face in Crowley’s scales. 

“It’s all right,” Crowley soothed,flicking his tongue at Katie in comfort. “Don’t cry. I’ve lived long enough. It’s been a good life.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale chided as Georgie, Eddie, Bev, Richie, and Ben, and then slowly the rest of them (Bill stayed at the back, his eyes on Pennywise to ensure the clown wasn’t going anywhere) stepped forward. “Don’t say such things. I will make you well again.”

Crowley looked towards Aziraphale, eyes milky white, skin wasting away to bone, and smiled sadly. “There’s nothing you can do and you know it, angel. I’m a dead man walking,” she chuckled weakly, coughing again. “Not that I’m a man to begin with.”

“Dad,” Wren said, “your cycle. Did you eat?”

Crowley sighed, shaking her head. “That…” he wheezed, “...could cure me. But I’ve nothing. No prey…”

Katie pulled back, eyes hard and resolute. “Take me.”

Georgie surged forward, grabbing her shoulder. “Katie, no…”

Katie shook him off. “Dad,” she said, “It’s okay. I forgive you. Take my life, and the life I carry. I’m yours.”

Crowley shook his head resolutely, eyes growing clearer for just a moment as she glared at her daughter. “No,” she whispered, “Katie,” Her long coils curled around Katie’s form, holding her in a soft of hug. “I would never forgive myself.” She touched her snout to Katie’s head. “It’s okay, Katie. Let me go.”

“L-let me go…” The clown echoed. 

“Wait,” Jack grinned. “Hey, dad...you should eat Pennywise.”

The clown squawked, indignant. “She’ll do no such thing! We are sisters! Kin! Glamours cannot make meals of each other!”

“Why not?” Richie mocked. 

“Yeah, you tried twenty-seven years ago!” Wren shouted.

Bev looked at Crowley. “Will it work?”

Aziraphale held his breath. He knew it was risky, while Crowley had been envenomed, her corporeal form damaged in the way that it was. 

It seemed Crowkey knew this, too, for she closed her eyes, as if summoning a great strength. “I...suppose so, yes,” he replied. “But...it’s a one-chance thing. And I have to...” He looked around at all of them. “You’ll all see my Deadlights.”

“Small price to pay,” Richie grinned. The others agreed.

“Ben, Mike, help me lift it,” Bill called. “It’s heavy!”

A procession began, carrying the clown towards Crowley, who had now raised herhead, eyes glaring down at Pennywise. Katie, Georgie, Bev, and Eddie had been closest, so they were swept up in Crowley’s coils, the inky black sleek body embracing them on either side.

“No, no, no!” Pennywise struggled in the hold, but she was not strong enough to fend off anyone anymore. “Let me go! I’ll give you riches! Power! Long life! Just please, please, let me go!”

Georgie handed Pennywise’s body to Katie, who was right beside the serpent’s snout. Unafraid, she held up the clown over her head, allowing Crowley to rise up and strike.

There was a shriek and something that sounded like a spider’s many scuttling feet, and then a deep, glowing, orange light. No... two orange lights, that seemed to fight for control. The shadows of two forms shifted and merged. Snake, spider, snake, and then some horrifying winged combination of the two, and then just a winged snake…

And then, standing before them, his eyes still glowing, was Crowley. The only evidence of his wound was his torn clothing and the blood. The Glamour put on his glasses and spread two large, inky black wings. “I’m going to cleanse this space with fire,” he called down to the humans, “and then let water wash it away! Quickly! There isn’t much time!” His stomach twisted and lurched. His meal was fighting him. But he swallowed again, thickly, wrapping his essence around the dead spider’s, letting his body absorb her power. Yes, she was dead, but she was here still, or, rather, he could feel them, feel her victims, feel their souls in his essence. 

The fucking spider. She had conjured this in her final moments, all the memories of her prey. They had long become a part of her, but she could mimic them, their innocence, their fear. And Crowley loved children. His heart burned with sorrow, and fire raged through the spider’s lair as Aziraphale helped find a way out for the children. Crowley sobbed, burning down the monuments she had kept to the destruction of her prey.

“I’m sorry,” Crowley sobbed. “You’re dead and gone and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never would’ve hurt any of you.” He touched his heart, flooding himself with his own light, drowning out the last pieces of Pennywise.

And then, he let the cleansing waters take over.

~

The children, for part of him still saw them as children (to be fair, he was older than Time itself), were rejoicing. Spouses hugged and kissed, children were reunited with their parents, friends old and new laughed together, glad to be free at last.

Crowley...felt ill.

Aziraphale gently rested a hand on his shoulder. “Dear boy, are you all right?”

Crowley shivered like a leaf. “I-I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Pennywise, she...before the end of her, she...she mocked me.” He stared in fear at Aziraphale. “I’ve devoured her...haven’t I? Why do I still feel her?! Why can I still feel the children?”

Aziraphale let his love and light pour into Crowley as much as he dared, calming him while looking at his aura and essence. “My dear, she is gone, as you say.” He smiled. “Any guilt you feel is, well, to be crass...indigestion.”

Crowley laughed, a bit frantically. “I can use her forms, angel. I don’t want to.” He clutched his stomach. “I’m sick with them…”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale embraced him, “You aren’t her. You never will be. You know as well as I that her victims are long gone. And you, you are bright and well.”

Crowley pushed himself away, falling to his knees at the river, regurgitating. Aziraphale was about to try to stop him, but all that came up was the shell of Pennywise; the costume, and what was, essentially, a mask. The children watched as Crowley burned it. “That,” Crowley said, “is the last of her.” 

And then Katie went into labor.

~

“It’s a girl!” The doctors announced as a nurse placed the newborn against her mother’s chest.

Katie embraced her child, healthy and with a great set of lungs even a week and some days early. Bright, golden eyes greeted the world for the first time as her mother whispered into her hair: 

“Marigold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes OF COURSE I saved Eddie!!! I’m not a monster! Or if I am, I’m much more Crowley’s type than Pennywise’s, wouldn’t you agree? 
> 
> Epilogue will be up soon, but this is technically the end...unless I decide to add one more chapter and an epilogue. 🤔
> 
> Please leave a comment and kudos if you can, and I hope you’ve enjoyed this series! Thank you all for supporting me! Special thanks to usuallyherdragon for being my sounding board...I’m sorry I can only talk about this to you. 😅 Also to Limos in the discord for being my cheerleader. 
> 
> And to everyone who read the first and stayed with me for the second...I love you. Thank you for supporting this fic!


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